Passengers
by skyflower51
Summary: She didn't want to go to Solstheim. She didn't want to be thrown back under the world's prying eyes. And she didn't want to be forced to be the Dragonborn again. But Miraak has threatened not only J'shana's life, but those of everyone she has left to love. Perhaps that's why it's so much of a comfort, as she goes to face him, to have her two closest friends at her side.
1. Appearances and Accusations

**This story's about a lot of things. It's about the unusual circumstances that led my character to go to Solstheim, and how she copes (or fails to cope) with the fact that she's Dragonborn. But mostly it's about her relationship with her two best friends. So I dedicate this story to my two best 'real life' friends Trishy Fishy and Yoyocrazy3, who are as encouraging and wonderful to me as J'shana's friends are to her. :)**

* * *

PASSENGERS

* * *

CHAPTER ONE - APPEARANCES AND ACCUSATIONS

Gjalund Salt-Sage was more than used to weirdness. But even he could only take so much.

He had ferried any amount of unusual passengers in his time, from Windhelm to Solstheim and back to Windhelm again. People from all walks of life had sailed on the _Northern Maiden,_ representatives of every race and with varying amounts of coin. Some were nobles or wealthy merchants who were happy to hand over a little extra gold for the cabins at the back of the ship that rocked less when the ocean tossed. Others were peasants who had to sell the clothes from their backs just to get a hammock below decks. Some were dull, others surprising. And some were plain strange, like those fellows in the carved masks. After _they_ boarded the _Northern Maiden,_ he'd thought nothing could surprise him.

And then… then these three came.

He'd been on deck, minding his own business (he didn't have much else to do, while he tried to work out what in the Nine's good name had happened during those forgotten days) when he'd seen her coming. The fact that she was a Khajiit was cause enough for surprise – they were rare in Skyrim, and it was rarer still to see one so close to the city walls. The caravans usually camped outside the stable. But it was clear at once that this Khajiit was no caravan member. She looked nothing like one. Caravan members did not carry ornate, white-gold bows, or wear armour made from the scales of dragons.

 _Dragons._ Real, honest-to-the-Gods armour made from dragon scales.

'Is that _her?'_ Lygrleid had breathed, as she ran along the docks, weaving with surprising grace for one so clearly in a hurry between the Argonian workers and the guards.

Gjalund didn't need to ask who he meant. Everyone had heard the stories. The Dragonborn seemed to appear like a bolt of lightning from nowhere when she was needed, chasing off a dragon or fighting a vampire or two, only to vanish like smoke as soon as people turned away. It was said that her name was J'shana, but no one seemed entirely sure. What was known for certain was that she was a Khajiit with piercing amber eyes and ash-grey fur with black stripes. And that she wore dull green armour – dragonscale armour.

'Has to be,' he murmured, standing up to get a better view.

He had wondered dimly what on Nirn the saviour of Skyrim was doing at the Windhelm docks. And then he'd wondered sharply, and worriedly, why she was heading towards his ship.

 _If she asks for passage to Solstheim…_ He shuddered. He'd promised himself never to go back to that Godsforsaken isle, but if the Dragonborn requested it, how could he say no?

His worst fears had been realised after she turned to dash along the quay leading to the _Maiden._ With a sigh, Gjalund went to meet her. Shor's bones, of course he was excited to meet the Dragonborn, but under these circumstances…

'How much for passage to Solstheim?' she demanded, before Gjalund could speak.

 _Damn._

He was surprised by her voice. While there was a light hiss to her Ss and a soft growl to her Rs, her accent was almost completely Cyrodiilic. Nothing like the husky, purring accents of the caravan members. Didn't make her question any less difficult to answer, though.

'Look, if you want to go to Solstheim, too bad,' Gjalund said wearily. 'I'm not going back there anymore.'

'I'm sorry, but you need to take me.' Another surprise – she called herself _I,_ not _Khajiit_ or _this one._ 'People are in danger –'

'And so will I be if I go back.' Gjalund decided he might as well tell her about those… people. Maybe he could put her off. 'Look, I don't even remember how I got here. See, I remember those people with the masks coming on board, then… Next thing I remember, I was here and they were gone. That's not right, losing whole days like that.'

He met her piercing amber gaze, hoping she would relent and say she'd find some other ship, but her expression didn't change. 'I've known worse to happen.'

Gjalund ran a hand through his hair. 'There's been something strange going on there for a while now, but after this… I'm done. I'm not going back to Solstheim.'

'Yes, you are.' There was a sudden, fierce hiss in the Dragonborn's voice. 'You're taking me to Solstheim. Because those cultists you brought here tried to kill me. And not just me. They…'

Her voice trailed off, and her eyes grew distant. 'Please,' she whispered, both her face and her voice softening. 'Those men in masks tried to hurt the people I love. And they'll do it again unless I stop them. If you're not willing to do this for the sake of my loved ones, you might at least do it to make amends for bringing them here.'

Gjalund groaned mentally. He'd known that he wouldn't be able to get out of it. It was hardly something to boast about, that you'd let some crazies onto your ship who'd attacked the Dragonborn. Well, at least he could make some coin.

'All right. I guess taking you there to find out who sent them is the last I can do. And maybe you can put a stop to whatever's going on there.' He hesitated, wondering how much compensation she was willing to give. 'Two hundred Septims,' he said.

'Done,' she said instantly. Gjalund blinked – he'd expected her to at least _try_ to argue him down. 'When are we leaving?'

Better to get it over with, he guessed. 'Right away, if you want.'

'Perfect.'

She handed over her coin and leaped on board. Gjalund turned to his crew, signalling for them to start preparations for the voyage. 'Mind if I ask,' he said, eyeing the Khajiit carefully. 'Are you –'

'Yes, I am the Dragonborn.' She strode forwards to stand at the prow, gazing out over the sea. 'Whatever this… Miraak might think about it.'

Gjalund decided it would probably be easier to just not ask about what she meant. Going back to Solstheim and carrying a walking divine intervention on board his ship was already difficult enough to understand.

Things got even harder to understand half an hour later, when the other two showed up. Quite literally out of nowhere.

The sails had been unfurled, the anchor hauled up, and the _Northern Maiden_ well on its way. A stiff breeze had meant that they were making a good pace, and Windhelm had already dwindled to a blot on the horizon. The Dragonborn, despite Gjalund's invitation to go below and choose a cabin (he might as well give her the choice, seeing as he'd overcharged her) had remained standing at the prow, arms folded, tail twitching, eyes fixed on the place where Solstheim would appear. He didn't have the heart to tell her it would be a few days yet.

Gjalund was about to approach her and offer her food – noon had come and gone while they'd been sailing – when, without warning, a voice sounded from behind him. A completely disembodied voice. Soft and low, somewhat wearied, yet strong at the same time.

'I think that's far enough,' it said.

With a hurriedly stifled yelp, Gjalund whirled around – noting, as he did so, that the Khajiit copied him, looking even more startled than he felt.

'Yes,' another voice agreed, also completely without a body to create it. This one was lighter, younger-sounding. 'She can't throw us out now.'

'This potion will be wearing off in a few seconds,' the first voice remarked, and a moment later, a woman blinked into view a short distance away – a Dunmer woman in jet black armour made from interlocking plates, a dark cape over her shoulders, and… Gjalund shook himself and looked again. No, he hadn't been mistaken. She had purple eyes.

An instant later, another woman appeared next to her, in a plume of light that signified the expiry of a spell. This one was a human, a Nord, with uncannily pale skin, black hair, and – by the Nine, were her eyes _glowing?_ Not glowing an inviting colour either – a reddish orange that made Gjalund quickly decide looking away would be more comfortable.

'There,' she said, rubbing her hands together.

Gjalund glanced at the Dragonborn, and saw that the Khajiit's fur was bristling. 'What are you two doing here?'

The Nord turned to the Dunmer, raising her eyebrows. 'Told you.'

'Never doubted you,' the elf replied.

The Dragonborn's tail started to swish, and little as he knew of her species, Gjalund was aware that this was not a good sign. 'I said that you weren't to come with me!'

'We know you did,' the Dunmer said calmly. 'We just didn't listen.'

'Do you ever, when it's important?' The tail was now swinging sharply back and forth. 'I told you, I told you this was something I had to do alone-'

'No such thing,' the Nord said breezily, brushing a few snowflakes off her armour - armour, Gjalund realised suddenly, that he recognised. It was the gear the Dawnguard wore. 'Come on, J'shana. We know what it's like doing someone on your own, and we know you, and we know you don't want to.'

The Dragonborn drew in a long, deep breath. 'Karliah. Serana. Please. I… those cultists came for me. Enough people have already been put in danger because they want me dead –'

'Didn't I say she'd use that argument?' the Dunmer interrupted, and the Nord nodded.

'Merrunz's claws!' The tail was now well and truly lashing, and Gjalund had to struggle to stop himself from backing away when the Khajiit turned to him. 'Please, Captain – turn the ship around.'

'Don't even think about it,' the Nord ordered him.

'And we _are_ paying for our passage,' the Dunmer added, fishing a coin purse from a satchel attached to her belt and tossing it to Gjalund with a careless flick of her hand.

The Nord grinned. 'See? We're paid for. He can't take us back.'

Gjalund untied the purse strings and peered inside. He didn't have to count the heap of gold that graced his eyes with its presence to know that it was more than he would get from carrying the _Maiden_ full to the brim with passengers between Windhelm and Solstheim three times.

He thought about pointing this out, but decided against it. If these weird-eyed women were going to give his nerves as many shocks as they had in the minute they'd been there in every subsequent minute of this voyage… well, they deserved to pay a bit extra, really.

'I'm not turning around,' he said firmly. 'It takes enough time to get this ship out of port as it is, and I'd have to pay the docking fee again.'

The Nord shrugged. 'You don't want to empty the captain's purse so soon after we just filled it, right?'

The Khajiit's response was to let out a strangled hissing sound and press her hands against her face. She stood there for some moments, and then something happened that surprised Gjalund more than odd, masked men making him forget an entire voyage, more than Akatosh's chosen one asking to travel on his ship, more than two women with peculiar eyes appearing out of thin air. A soft sob came from behind those silver-furred hands. Quickly followed by another.

'J'shana,' the Nord whispered, running forwards to grasp the Khajiit's arms, and the Dunmer turned to Gjalund with a suddenly frosty expression.

'I think our friend would appreciate some privacy,' she said, and Gjalund was only too happy to vanish below decks, clutching the coin purse in both hands.

He really hadn't wanted to go back to Solstheim. And he wasn't sure he wanted to spend a journey with these three… oddities, either.

Still, it would be something to tell the grandkids. If he ever had any. And if he survived the weirdness this journey was bound to throw at him.

* * *

It had started with the masked strangers. And it had escalated all too quickly.

Odd people were a Septim a dozen in Riften. J'shana had lived there for ten years now, and she was used to having strangers appear on the streets. As for the actual residents of Riften, well, they included a Dunmer with an Argonian name, a woman who liked to enthuse about how exciting it was to watch a poison blind someone, and… Gods, she herself could be counted as one of the stranger inhabitants of the place. Only a handful of people in the city knew that she was Dragonborn, but the fact that they were in the dark about her being the dragon-souled chosen one of Akatosh didn't mean she wasn't them.

So while the men in the masks made her blink and look again, surprised, they definitely didn't worry her. Not at first.

She wasn't really in the mood to be worried, anyway. The day had been spent in Solitude, pulling off a daring and eventually successful heist in Castle Dour. The thrill of the mission and the euphoria that came with pulling it off were still smouldering cheerfully inside her even after the long carriage journey back, and besides, she had the company of a friend. More than a friend; a sister. A soulmate, almost. J'shana knew that word had romantic connotations, and that meant it wasn't quite the one she was looking for, but it was the closest translation to the word in Ta'agra she would have used to describe what Karliah meant to her.

Who else, of those who could have accompanied her on that heist, could have known from nothing more than the slight twitching of her tail, not even a signal, just a movement, that there were exactly three guards in the room up ahead of them? Who else could have been able to communicate to her, just by a raised eyebrow, that the floor ahead of them would creak under their weight no matter how lightly they placed their feet, and that it would be better for J'shana, silent-walking Khajiit as she was, to walk across it? J'shana and Karliah knew each other, from shared battles and pain and laughter, better than anyone except the men they loved – Karliah refused to refer to Gallus as the man she 'had loved' – and there was no other friend whose company J'shana treasured more.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. There was one other friend who ranked equally, but this was a heist, so… the presence of a fellow thief was preferred.

So it had been an enjoyable mission overall, and J'shana was not, in any way, in a mood for troubles. They'd been in and out of Castle Dour without being seen or heard, bearing General Tullius's personal collection of poetry with them - J'shana had no idea why someone wanted them stolen, but she was toying with the idea that Ulfric Stormcloak had either unexpected underworld links or equally unexpected hidden depths - and it had provided her with plenty of reading material on the journey home. She and Karliah had chuckled over their theories, and the more amusing moments of their mission, and J'shana had smiled to see her Dunmer sister so obviously content. All too often, the look in those indigo eyes was a haunted one, and a smile was too rare to come to the grey-skinned face.

And there was no need to worry about the public's prying eyes. The people of Skyrim would be disappointed, J'shana knew, if they knew that their saviour lived a double life. If rumours of a feral dragon reached her ears, J'shana would be geared up in her dragonscale armour and spurring Frost towards the creature's lair without hesitation. If the Dawnguard called on her to help them clear out a cave of vampires, she'd do the same. But that didn't mean she wanted the attention people seemed so eager to give to the Dragonborn. She'd tried to keep her name secret for a reason. It had still got out somehow, but that wasn't so bad – she trusted the Guild to keep their leader's secret safe. Once she'd learned that the name J'shana had been identified as the Dragonborn's, she'd called a meeting, revealed the truth about herself, and asked them never to say a word.

'I came to the Guild to escape the Thalmor,' she told them. 'If they ever found me, they'd kill me and anyone associated with me. I came here to vanish, and I found a family down here. I'm throwing myself on the loyalty of that family now. If any of you reveal that your Guildmaster is the Dragonborn, the Thalmor will come. And it's not just me they'll hurt.'

And no one had said a thing. All of them had promised never to. And J'shana believed them. She'd worked with these people for too long to doubt them. Still, she'd continued with her precautionary measures. Karliah was the only member of the Guild who knew what she naturally looked like; whenever she went into the Flagon, right from the beginning, she'd used a black plant dye to obscure her most distinctive features. None of her Guildmates had ever seen the white patches on the back of her ears, or the distinctive spiral stripe on either side of her face. And if she had to speak to a stranger on Guild business, she'd affect an Elsweyr accent, refer to herself in the third person. As far as possible, the Guildmaster and the Dragonborn were going to remain separate people.

She was firmly in her Guildmaster persona now, with her markings disguised and her black leathers worn hidden beneath her travelling clothes. She knew that many of the people of Riften knew she was associated with the Guild, but since these people also knew the city's industry had boomed since the Guild's comeback, they weren't about to complain about her presence. And the rest just knew her as the only Khajiit citizen of the town, and the Jarl's Thane. So she moved through the streets comfortably as the night slowly fell, Karliah a pace behind her, nodding to Madesi, smiling at the young son of Talen-Jei and Keerava as he rushed around the marketplace, tossing a few coins to Snilf. There was no danger here. Why should there be?

So at first, her gaze glossed over the two dark-robed, mask-wearing people standing near the entrance to the Temple of Mara. Until they moved to block her path.

Instantly, J'shana was on alert; strange people were only safe to be around in Riften if they didn't want anything to do with her. Neither of the two of them seemed armed, but those robes spoke of magical affinity. J'shana glanced at Karliah, and saw her own trepidation and suspicion reflected in her friend's eyes.

'You there!' One of the two mask-wearers strode towards J'shana, the voice – a woman's – strident and demanding. 'Are you the one they call Dragonborn?'

J'shana felt her heartbeat falter.

This was what she'd dreaded, above everything else. For someone to raise a challenge like this to her publicly. If she'd been undyed, undisguised, openly wearing her dragonscale armour, she wouldn't have denied their words – there wouldn't have been any point. But she needed so badly to hide the truth when she was wearing this guise, living this role. These people didn't look like Thalmor, but who knew where those murderers had spies?

'Dragonborn?' She laughed. 'That one may be giving my people a better name, and I'll gladly partake in that. But I can't lay a claim on her title, much as I'd like to.'

She made her Elsweyr accent a little stronger than normal, but there were people around here who knew the way she usually spoke, so there was no point in going the whole way, using 'this one' and 'Khajiit.' Still, this might be enough to convince these… people… to leave her alone.

'Do not try to lie. We know your truth.' The other masked one, a man this time, extended an accusing finger in her direction. 'We know that you have tried to steal that title.'

'I don't make any kind of pretence that I'm the Dragonborn,' J'shana snapped. 'Get out of my fur.'

'Whoever you're looking for, go elsewhere,' Karliah said, her voice quiet yet, as always, commanding, 'She isn't who you want.'

The masked woman's fists clenched. 'Your lies fall on deaf ears!' she snarled. 'We know you are the False Dragonborn! You shall not stand in the way of the true Dragonborn's return. He comes soon, and we shall offer him your heart!'

Several questions threw themselves into J'shana's mind in such quick succession she had to struggle for a moment to work out what they all were. Firstly, why were these people so certain that she was the one Skyrim knew as the Dragonborn? Secondly, what in Alkosh's name did they mean by a true Dragonborn? And thirdly, how was she going to get them to leave her alone?

She wasn't in enough mental turmoil, though, to miss the woman's next words. 'When Lord Miraak appears, none shall stand to oppose him. All shall bear witness!'

 _Miraak?_

The word was Draconic _. Portal._ No, J'shana thought, portal was _miiraak –_ Miraak would be a compound name. _Allegiance Guide._

All her instincts told her to demand answers from this woman, to ask her who Miraak was and what he wanted with the Dragonborn. But she couldn't risk it.

'I don't give a skeever about your Miraak,' she snapped. 'I'm not opposing anyone, and I don't claim to be the Dragonborn.'

She became aware, suddenly, that Karliah had vanished from her side. It didn't worry her. Karliah was not the kind of person to abandon her when she was in trouble, so Karliah had not abandoned her. It was simple as that. No, the Dunmer would be putting some kind of plan into action.

A moment later, her suspicions were confirmed as her Guildsister rounded the marketplace wall, a trio of town guards in tow. When wearing her thief identity, guards were generally the last people J'shana wanted to see, but at that moment, they were most beautiful sight she'd ever set eyes on.

'What's your business here?' one of them demanded, marching towards the mask-wearers.

'Do not stand in our way,' the man snapped. 'We have come to silence the lies of the false Dragonborn, and see justice done in our Lord's name.'

J'shana let out a hiss. 'How many times do I have to say it? I'm not any kind of Dragonborn, false or true!'

'This woman is Thane of this Hold,' the lead guard said, drawing his sword. 'And you're disturbing the peace.'

'We're the ones who deliver justice in this city,' another added. 'Not you.'

The man's body tensed as if he were about to argue, but the woman stepped up and tugged at his arm. 'Let them listen to the trickster's falsehoods for now. We will have another time.'

They turned away and headed towards the city gates, casting looks back at J'shana as they went.

With a soft sigh of relief, though she knew this reprieve was only temporary, J'shana nodded toward the guards' leader. 'Thank you.'

'Just doing our duty, my Thane.' J'shana recognised the voice; this guard was one of those in the pay of the Guild. It was in his interests to see off anyone who threatened her. 'I'll send a man after them to make sure they're gone.'

J'shana sent silent thanks to the Divines as she watched the gates close on the strange pair, but it was clear from the woman's parting words that they intended to return. She pulled the knapsack containing General Tullius's poetry books down from her back. Her good mood had dissolved.

'Kar, can you take these to the Guild and log the mission for me?' She curled her tail around her legs, something she often found herself doing when on edge. 'I think I should get back home.'

'Of course.' Karliah shouldered the bag, her eyes filled with sympathy. 'Do you want me to keep this quiet?'

J'shana hesitated, then shook her head. 'No. The Guild will find out what happened soon enough. Tell them, and ask Bryn to station a watch if possible. If those people set one foot back inside the city, I want to know about it.'

Karliah gave a single, serious nod. 'And I'll see what can be done about putting out some feelers, finding out where they came from.' She pursed her lips thoughtfully. 'They sounded Dunmer to me.'

'Then let's not limit the search to Skyrim.' J'shana cast a glance in the direction of Honeyside. 'Thank you for doing this. And for… helping me keep it secret.'

Karliah's face grew more sombre still. 'No one deserves to be hunted,' she said quietly.

She adjusted the straps on the bag and turned to leave. 'I'll stop by tomorrow morning,' she said. 'Make sure everything's all right.'

With a parting nod, she broke into a run in the direction of the entrance to the Cistern.

J'shana breathed out slowly. Her friend spoke from experience, and it made a cold shiver run down her spine. How far would these odd, masked people go? Would they try to do to her what Mercer had to Karliah? Drive her away from her home? Slander her name? Take away the one she loved?

The thought made her throat run dry. These people knew, somehow, or had guessed, that she was Dragonborn. That meant they had the power to do all those things. And she had to do something to stop them before they could.

She'd seldom run so fast in her life as she did to Honeyside then.

* * *

 **This is the first of the bunch of short stories I'm going to be writing over the next month or so, which are all intended to explain more about my Dragonborns (and their overly complex backstories). This one will be about three or four chapters. I'm going for one of my favourite story formats here - describe a scene, then go back in time to explain the events that led up to it. Somehow J'shana is a magnet for these kinds of fic. XD**

 **Next chapter will be up soon.** **Thanks for reading!**


	2. Family and Fury

CHAPTER TWO – FAMILY AND FURY

J'shana skidded to a halt in front of the door to her home and hammered on it so hard that a jolt of pain rushed up her arm. She winced, withdrew her fist, and prepared to go on knocking; then the door opened and she quickly pulled her hand back before she punched her husband in the chest.

Derkeethus took one look at her and pulled her inside, closing the door firmly behind him. 'What's happened?'

The only answer J'shana felt able to give him right then was to press her head against his neck and wrap her arms around him. He let out a quiet, sigh-like sound and pulled her close. 'Whatever it is, Sha, it will be all right.'

'I hope so.' J'shana stayed there a moment, letting it last, the feeling of warmth and comfort and safety and just being _loved_ that came from being close to him. 'Something strange just happened, and… it means trouble. Are Ma'vasha and Meleetha in bed?'

He let her go, his green gaze gentle but worried. 'Asleep, I hope. Is this something we cannot risk them hearing?'

'I'd rather they didn't hear, no.' J'shana hesitated, then made her way towards the stairs leading to the below-ground level of the house. She knew that her children were safe, or Derkeethus would have said something, but she wanted to check. Just to be sure.

There they were, each of them curled up under their blankets, eyes closed and faces content. J'shana leaned against the door to their room, feeling a smile prick at the corners of her mouth. When she'd fallen in love with an Argonian, she'd thought that was the end to any ideas she'd ever had about becoming a mother – it was practically unheard of for members of the two beastfolk races to be able to reproduce. But undocumented, it turned out, didn't mean impossible. Ma'vasha had been the proof, coming unexpectedly five years ago. And then Meleetha, even more impossible than her brother – generally, half-bloods took on their mother's race, while Meleetha had inherited their father's. And with good reason, J'shana had learned – Khajiit children were born as kittens, only later growing into their moon-subspecies. Argonians emerged from the egg the same size as a human or elf child. There'd been no egg for Meleetha – J'shana had carried her daughter as if she'd been a Khajiit, but her size had soon made it clear that she'd taken on Derkeethus's race. That had meant a journey to Black Marsh, since it could be damaging to young Argonians to be raised away from the Hist trees, and an extremely uncomfortable birth. But the pains she'd gone through for her son and her daughter only made J'shana love them more. She'd fought for her children. They were her victory, the proof that she had survived and found happiness against all odds, against the plans of the Thalmor and all her own uncertainties.

These children… if it became known that she was Dragonborn, if the Thalmor learned of it, and found out that it was here in Riften she had gone to escape them… they would be in terrible danger. J'shana knew from bitter experience that the Aldmeri Dominion thought nothing of murderering the young.

She gazed at them for a moment more, then turned to Derkeethus, who was standing a little way away, waiting for her. She went to him, let him take her hand in his and lead her back upstairs. He'd set out a bottle of Alto wine and a pair of cups, and J'shana smiled. It was nice to be taken care of sometimes. And he always seemed to know when she needed it.

There was a quiet bark, and J'shana smiled as the final member of the family leaped up from the corner and approached, tail wagging. Meeko was getting old now, but he was still as enthusiastic about everything as he'd been as a young dog, and he defended J'shana and her loved ones just as fiercely. She bent down to ruffle the fur between his ears, glad of his simple, uncomplicated devotion, then went to sit opposite Derkeethus. Meeko padded after her and settled on the floor at her feet, placing his head on his paws.

'Right then,' Derkeethus said briskly, pouring J'shana a glass. 'What happened? There was a problem with the heist?'

'No, that went fine.' J'shana clasped the cup in both hands and gazed at the dark red liquid for a moment before taking a sip. 'Quite fun, actually. Whoever it was who asked us to steal Tullius's poetry collection will be pleased; we've arranged for him to meet Niruin in Whiterun tomorrow for a pick-up. What happened was… just now.'

With her husband's patient eyes upon her, J'shana haltingly told the tale. He listened, his frown (a movement of the brows imperceptible to anyone who hadn't known the facial movements of Argonians well for a long time) growing slowly deeper the longer she talked.

'So somehow they knew who you were, or at least they suspected it,' he said slowly. 'And they seem to think this…' He hesitated.

'Miraak.'

'This Miraak is their true Dragonborn.' He let out a quiet hiss, rubbing the base of his horns. 'This is not good, Sha.'

'You can say that again.' J'shana drained her glass and thumped it down on the table. 'They didn't make any secret of the fact that they wanted me dead. And this Miraak of theirs… They didn't say much about him, but he doesn't sound like someone I'd want to meet.'

' _None shall stand to oppose him,'_ Derkeethus murmured. 'That sounds as if he plans on conquest.'

J'shana bit her lip. 'And that I could get in his way.' She thought of Alduin and Mercer and Harkon, and the pain and the time it had taken to defeat them. 'I really don't want to face another power-crazed... thing. And if this Miraak is really another Dragonborn...'

'You may not have a choice,' Derkeethus warned her.

'I know.'

They sat in silence for a few seconds, then J'shana sighed heavily. 'The other problem – well, one of them – is that they came pretty close to blowing my cover. It's pretty flimsy anyway. I don't know how much longer I can keep on living this life, Keeth.'

Derkeethus reached across the table to place his hand on top of hers. 'Shana…'

'I've got to make a decision sooner or later. I can't keep being two people, what happened today proved that. If people find out the Dragonborn and the Guildmaster are the same person, I won't have anywhere to hide from the Thalmor if they come after me again.'

Another almost invisible narrowing of the scaled eye-ridges. 'Sha, don't tell me that's the only reason. The truth is that you don't want people to think badly of you.'

J'shana sighed again. 'Of course I don't. I didn't join the Guild out of disrespect for the law, or because I wanted money, I just needed to hide. But if the rest of Skyrim found out, they wouldn't know that. And they don't know what good people there are in the Guild. I… I don't want to be hated.'

'Oh, Sha.' Derkeethus rose from his seat and moved around the table, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. 'Of course you don't want that. No one wants that. But you are the one who saved this land. No one is going to hate you.'

'I don't want to be thought badly of. At all.' J'shana shook her head slightly. 'But if I leave the Guild, hand it over to Brynjolf – and he really wouldn't be pleased about that – what then? I have the Guild ready to hide me – hide _us –_ if we need it, but then… letting the world know that I'm the Dragonborn means that I'll have everyone knowing who I am. And no, I don't want to be disliked, but I don't want to be worshipped either. All I really want is you and our children and a life I can be happy in.'

He brushed the side of his face against hers, a common Argonian gesture of affection. 'It doesn't have to be one or the other, Sha. You can leave the Guild without telling the world that you are Dragonborn. And you don't have to make the choice here and now.'

J'shana nodded, reaching down absent-mindedly to stroke Meeko. 'The only decision that I really have to make now is what we do about these people in the masks. If they come back… you and the kids are in danger.'

'So are you,' Derkeethus pointed out.

'You and I can defend ourselves. The children can't. We need to get them somewhere safe.'

'The Cistern, you mean?'

'No. All those mask-madmen would need to do would be to ask around Riften a bit and they might find out that the woman they confronted is with the Guild. I wouldn't put it past them to find the Cistern. I was thinking Fort Dawnguard. These people suspect I'm Dragonborn, and people know the Dragonborn's with the Dawnguard, but I have a feeling they'd be much less inclined to attack a heavily-armed fortress packed with the warriors who defeated a vampire army than a group of thieves in a sewer.'

Derkeethus dipped his head. 'We had better move quickly. Leave first thing in the morning.'

'Karliah said she'd come round to make sure we were OK. If she comes with us, we'll have an extra pair of fighting hands if Mr and Mrs Mask show up again.' J'shana pursed her lips. 'And then I'll have to go back to the Guild and see what we can dig up about them.'

'Don't worry about that now. Come and get some sleep.'

Derkeethus had a way of making everything seem simple and safe. So J'shana let go of her worries, for the moment. He was right; she needed rest.

She went through her normal night-time routine, making a final fuss of Meeko, hanging up her bow, double-checking that the door was locked, placing her dagger on the bedside table. As she pulled off her armour and tugged on her light sleeping tunic, she had to wonder how much longer she'd be wearing the Guild leathers for.

But Derkeethus's warm arms and the comfort of their bed was enough to put the thought out of her mind. All thoughts, actually.

Until the scream ripped her from sleep.

It was a sound that shattered J'shana's dreams like an axe to glass, a sound that made her blood turn to fire in her veins and every thought in her mind dissolve into panic. She was moving in an instant, snatching up her dagger and sprinting for the stairs, not knowing whether Derkeethus or Meeko had woken, not stopping to look. Because there is nothing in the universe that moves faster than a mother hearing her child cry out in terror.

The voice had been Meleetha's, and it had been meaningless; no words, just terror. But now it was joined by another, lower-pitched, frantic. ' _Mama!'_

'Ma'vasha!' J'shana screeched her son's name, needing her children to know she was coming, that she wouldn't abandon them, that she'd help them, no matter what. 'Meleetha!'

She already knew what she would see when she reached them, but it didn't make it any easier to look at. Nothing compared to the horror of the sight of seeing your children with knives pressed to their throats. Nothing at all.

The masked ones were there, all right, as J'shana had known they would be. The woman was crouching so as to reach Meleetha's neck; the man had simply picked Ma'vasha up and was gripping him with one arm, holding the knife in the other. Meleetha seemed paralysed with fright, but Ma'vasha was wriggling, trying to break the man's grip without taking his neck too close to the man's dagger.

'Stop there,' the woman commanded. 'We hold the power now, deceiver. If you value the lives of your children, you'll confess your identity and submit to your fate!'

But J'shana didn't stop moving. She had only three words to share with these people.

' _Zun HAAL VIIK!'_

The daggers were wrenched from her enemies' hands as if pulled by a telekinesis spell. She didn't care that she'd just proven them right, that she'd shown that she was Dragonborn. There was no time to care. And anyway, these two weren't about to tell anyone. They'd be too dead to tell anyone.

She saw the man recoil in shock, loosening his grip, and Ma'vasha took the opportunity of the knife's removal to lean forward and sink his teeth into his captor's arm. The man yelped and released him, and Ma'vasha dropped to the ground, landing on his feet, as a Khajiit should. Meleetha, though, was still in the woman's grip, so it was the woman J'shana charged, dagger extended, teeth bared.

The woman pulled back her hand, an ice spell sparking in her palm, but J'shana was upon her before she could fire. The ice spike smashed into the ceiling as J'shana threw herself at the woman, hurling her back and driving the dagger into the arm that held her daughter. The woman cried out, loosened her grip, and Meleetha fell.

'Run, Mel!' J'shana managed to get out the words before the woman yanked the dagger from her arm with a snarl and lunged in. Forcing her memory back in time to the lessons in unarmed combat her father had given her as a child, J'shana ducked, dropping to the ground and hurling her weight against her enemy's leg. Unbalanced, the woman crashed to the ground, the knife spinning from her grip, and J'shana was on her, pinning her down, lashing at her face with talons unsheathed when she showed signs of casting another spell, grasping out, finding the dagger, snarling, spitting, ears flattened, ready to do anything she had to in order to protect her children.

Her left hand locked under the edge of the mask and wrenched upwards. J'shana could feel the dragon blood rising within her, and it gave her the strength she needed. The mask came flying off the face, exposing the grey skin and wide red eyes filled with both terror and fury – so Karliah had been right, a corner of J'shana's mind registered dimly. They were indeed Dunmer. But it wasn't the face J'shana wanted to see. It was the neck, bare and exposed.

She didn't hesitate. Not for a heartbeat. She brought the knife smashing down into the exposed throat.

The blade punched through the flesh, met breath resistance, shuddered slightly and kept going. The moment J'shana was certain she had struck a fatal blow she looked up, knowing the woman was dying and terrified of what the man might have done while she was distracted. But Derkeethus was there. Of course he was there. He was unarmed – clearly he had run in as much a hurry as J'shana had, and he didn't keep a weapon at his bedside – but he was wrestling with the second mask-wearer, and no one would have had to know how to read Argonians' faces to know how much anger his contained. There was no sign of Meeko, and J'shana knew her dog would have been down here fighting with them if he could have been. Either these people had used a spell to stun him or paralyse him, or... or worse.

J'shana gritted her teeth. It would hurt like a stab to lose Meeko, but she had to focus on her husband and her children now. She forced all her attention back onto the fight.

The man sidestepped Derkeethus's punch and whirled around to stand behind him, wrenching the Argonian's hands behind his back. Derkeethus simply jerked his head backwards, slamming his horns into the man's mask. There was a loud _clunk_ and the man reeled back, a hand going to his face, clearly having felt the blow even through the metal. J'shana acted instantly, wrenching the dagger from the neck of the now-still Dunmer woman and hurling it through the air. It wasn't a well-aimed throw; her intention had been to disable him before he could cast any spells, and for that any distracting injury would do. The dagger embedded itself in the man's side, and he let out a cry, dropping to one knee.

Again, J'shana didn't think twice about what she did next. It was always hard to Shout too many times in quick succession, but never before had her dragon blood lent her so much strength.

' _Krii LUN AUS!'_

That Shout would weaken any opponent, but J'shana knew that with all three words, and so much rage behind it, it would do far more. The man sank lower, his hands falling to the floor, propping him up, as bit by bit his life force was leeched away. With a moan, he crumpled, drawing his limbs closer to his body. And finally going limp.

J'shana had collapsed too. Never before had she thrown so much of herself behind a Shout. Marked For Death could kill, but she'd never used it to do so outright before. She'd never been able to make it kill outright. But this time, she had wanted it so badly. She had _needed_ him dead.

It had saved her children, but it had taken so much from her…

Derkeethus's arms were around her, his voice was in her ear, and he was helping her rise. A voice whispered, 'Mama?' and J'shana forced herself to stand, to stay upright, to turn around. Her children. Her son, her daughter. Were they safe?

There they were, in the doorway. Meleetha was crying. Ma'vasha just seemed stunned.

'Oh, Gods,' J'shana whispered, and ran to them.

She couldn't hold them close enough. One arm for each of them would have to do. She didn't try to hold back her tears, or persuade them to stop theirs. Derkeethus joined them, and they clung together, their breathing coming fast, mingled with sobs.

'Who were they?' Ma'vasha whispered, his voice somewhat muffled.

'It doesn't matter.' J'shana bent her head to kiss the fur between his ears. 'They're not coming back.'

'Are they dead?'

J'shana drew in a deep, shuddering breath. 'Yes. They're dead.'

Derkeethus straightened up. 'Let's get you two upstairs. I'll... I'll get some sweetrolls for you.'

The look he shared with J'shana made his intention clear – they had to get the children away from the bodies. J'shana nodded. 'I'll join you in a second. I just need to… clear up.'

As Derkeethus shepherded their shell-shocked children away, J'shana knelt beside the bodies. Sometimes, on Thalmor Justiciars who had ambushed her, she'd found letters or scrolls containing the details of who had sent them and how much they had known about her. Perhaps these people would carry something similar.

She found what she was looking for in a pocket of the women's robe. A folded piece of parchment, with a set of instructions written in black ink.

 _Board the vessel_ Northern Maiden _docked at Raven Rock. Take it to Windhelm. Kill the False Dragonborn, believed to be known as J'shana, before she reaches Solstheim._

 _The pretender is a grey-furred Khajiit with black stripes and orange eyes. She speaks with the accent used in Cyrodiil and is often accompanied by a green-scaled Argonian. She is often seen in the Rift, the southernmost Hold of Skyrim. You should begin your search here._

 _Return with word of your success, and Miraak shall be most pleased._

J'shana read and re-read the letter, forcing every word into her memory. Then she folded the letter, and, with no pocket to place it in, headed upstairs with it clutched tightly in her hand.

Something told her no one in her family would be getting much sleep tonight.

* * *

 **Sweetrolls solve everything. X)**

 **Apologies for the relative shortness of this one - I kind of intended for it to be fast-paced, because that's how it feels to J'shana. Also, the story's really about her friendship with Karliah and Serana, so I don't want to dwell too much on her family life (though I do want to show that too).**

 **A bit about J'shana's family: the book _Racial Phylogeny_ says that little is known about how possible beastfolk/other species hybrids are, but that **' **there have been many reports throughout the Eras of children from these unions,' so I reckon it's possible. I also know Meleetha isn't entirely lore-friendly, on account of being an Argonian when her mother's a Khajiit. I actually created her before I was aware of the usual rule (in fact, I was so new to TES I hardly knew _any_ lore rules) but when I again consulted _Racial Phylogeny_ it said that half-bloods 'generally' take on the mother's race. So I decided I was safe, as long as I used the word 'generally' to my advantage. I've also read somewhere that Argonians don't receive their name until a certain age, but I can't for the life of my find the place I read that. With no idea how else to refer to Meleetha, I've just called her Meleetha here, if just to make things simpler. I hope no one minds my pushing at the boundaries of the lore, and I apologise if you do. **

**That's it from me for now. Thanks for reading!**


	3. Sanctuary and Stubbornness

CHAPTER THREE – SANCTUARY AND STUBBORNNESS

The body was lying sprawled out across the bridge in a steadily growing pool of water and blood.

J'shana approached with her heart in her mouth. She already knew that whoever this was, it would be someone she knew, someone who she called a friend. Because they were wearing the brown leather armour of the Guild – her Guild. The ice spike that had claimed their life and nailed their corpse to the wooden bridge was steadily melting, but from where J'shana stood, it obscured the victim's face. She moved closer, and her insides constricted.

'Garthar,' she whispered.

There was no reply, of course, and there never would be.

The Nord's sword was lying some distance away, so there was at least the consolation that he had gone down fighting. But it was a small comfort. He had been her friend, a fellow thief, someone with whom she had shared a laugh and a drink in the Ragged Flagon with many, many times. He'd been her Guild brother, and now he was gone. Because of two masked strangers, who'd decided to target her in a different way after she'd refused to admit that she was Dragonborn.

So this was what had happened to the Guild watch Karliah had set up. With the children distracted by Derkeethus, who'd lit the fire and settled them down beside it with a few of their books, J'shana had set about trying to work out how the intruders had broken in without any warning. The lock had not been picked, but carved right out of the door with careful application of what she assumed was fire magic. Meeko had, to J'shana's relief, been merely paralysed, not killed. It was a reasonable thing to do; a paralysis spell could be cast silently, while a lethal ice spear or lightning bolt would have made enough noise to wake her. The spell had worn off after about ten minutes, and now Meeko was lying by the fire with the others, graciously allowing Ma'vasha to use him as a headrest.

That explained how the mask-wearers had broken into the house and reached the children undetected, but it didn't answer how J'shana hadn't been warned. She'd asked to be informed if the men in masks had re-entered Riften, and usually the Thieves Guild was fairly skilled at keeping tabs on people. So she'd dressed and armed herself and set out into the streets. And here was her answer: Garthar, lying still and broken with a piece of ice as long as J'shana's arm through his stomach.

These mages could easily have used magic to distract any other Guild members who had been in the area, and ambushed Garthar silently. It would have been all too easy. J'shana gritted her teeth as she reached down to close her Guild brother's eyes. _This is my fault. If I'd just admitted to those people who I was, this wouldn't have happened._

But if she had, she'd have ruined the disguise she'd spent ten years making.

 _But it would have come to a fight there and then. Ma'vasha and Meleetha would never have been involved. Neither would Garthar._

Except that without the Guildmaster persona to retreat into, as refuge from the weight of her identity and more importantly from the Thalmor, her family would have been in even more danger.

 _They were put in danger anyway._

J'shana sighed. There was no point dwelling on it now – what was done was done. Garthar was dead, and all she could do about it was to try and find the other Guild members who were keeping watch. She found one at last, stationed near the southeast gate, invisible in the shadows to anyone with an eye less observant than hers.

'Niruin!' she called.

The Bosmer turned towards her and gave her a respectful nod. 'J'shana. Is there anything I can do to help you?'

'You can go back to the Cisternand tell them that Garthar's dead.' Her voice caught in her throat on the last two words.

Niruin's eyes widened. 'Dead? How?'

'Brynjolf sent you up here to watch for two people in robes and masks, right?' At his nod, J'shana went on. 'It looks like they got in without being seen, and… Garthar paid the price.'

Niruin muttered something that sounded like a Bosmeri swearword. 'I'll take care of it. Do you want me to order a stronger watch?'

'No. Gods, no.' J'shana shuddered at the thought of more Guild members out on the streets alone, ignorant of just how much danger they were in. Just because they'd only seen two mask-wearers so far, and because both were dead, it didn't mean they were safe. Who knew how many of them could be out there? 'I'd like you to do the opposite. Call it off. Get Garthar back to the Cistern, then get everyone inside and keep them there. And if you could mention to Bryn that I need my lock replaced, that'd be useful.'

The Wood Elf nodded slowly. 'I'll see it done.'

'And can you tell Karliah…' J'shana hesitated. 'Tell her they kept their promise. She'll understand. If she's free, I could use her help.'

'She'll be told.' Niruin gave her another nod and set off in the direction of the ratway entrance.

That was that, then, for now at least. J'shana knew that she and Derkeethus and Meeko would stay awake for the rest of the night; if any more people in masks showed up, they would be able to protect the children from them. There was no need for the Guild to keep watch any more, and it was safer this way.

She felt vulnerable, though, as she made her way back to Honeyside, and closing the broken door after herself was a relief. An even greater relief was seeing her family there, unharmed. Meleetha and Ma'vasha were still sitting cross-legged by the fire, while Derkeethus read to them from _A Children's Anuad._

'Well?' he asked, as J'shana settled herself down beside them.

'They killed Garthar,' she said heavily. 'I asked Niruin to call off the watch and send Karliah up here. I think we should move as soon as possible. If we're fast, we could be at Fort Dawnguard by morning.'

Her husband dipped his head, his eyes grave. He hadn't known Garthar well, but he'd spent enough time in the Ragged Flagon to have spoken to him once or twice. 'Whoever these people are,' he said slowly, 'they are madmen.'

J'shana looked at her two children, still uncharacteristically quiet in their shock, looking up at her with wide, haunted eyes. Who could ever want to hurt them? What insanity might ever drive someone to set a knife to their throats?

'Yes,' she whispered. 'They are.'

Ma'vasha gave Derkeethus's sleeve a tug. 'Keep reading, Pa.'

Derkeethus chuckled. 'All right. The only survivors of the twelve worlds of creation were the Ehlonfey and the Hist...'

With Ma'vasha and Meleetha distracted, J'shana was able to head back downstairs to pack their bags. The intruders' bodies were still slumped where they'd fallen, but there was no way she was carrying them out of the house past the kids. She'd have to leave them there until she could remove them safely. True, the children had been held hostage and seen their mother kill two people with nothing more than a dagger and three words, but that was no reason to scare them further.

She decided she'd better pack several sets of clothes for both her children and Derkeethus; there was no way to know how long they'd have to stay at Fort Dawnguard. She packed for herself separately, digging out the only map she had of the Morrowind region, which included Solstheim in one corner, and a book on Morrowind with a chapter devoted to the island. Two daggers, one short and one long, the best of her arrows, her strongest healing and invisibility potions. Finally, she exchanged the bow Karliah had given her for Auriel's bow. She knew it was odd to prize a present from her friend over the artefact of a Divine, but J'shana knew she'd never forgive herself if for some reason she lost Karliah's bow on Solstheim.

She'd just strapped the golden weapon over her back when there was a light rap at the door. She hurried upstairs, pulled the door open, and with considerable relief saw her Dunmer Guild sister standing there.

'They came back, then,' Karliah said.

J'shana stepped outside the house and pulled the door to; it would be better if the children didn't hear this. 'They came back. And they went after the kids.'

A look of shock and anger flashed over Karliah's face. 'Nocturnal's mercy…'

'They seemed to think that if they threatened them, they'd get me to confess to being Dragonborn.' J'shana almost spat out the words. 'So they could be sure of killing the right person.'

Karliah smiled wryly. 'I daresay they regretted that.'

'You have no idea.' J'shana leaned against the wall of the house, pursing her lips. 'Did Niruin tell you about Garthar?'

'Yes. He's been taken home. We'll bury him in the morning.'

This brought on another pulse of guilt. 'I can't be there. Derkeethus and I are taking the children to Fort Dawnguard. They'll be safe there, while I go looking for Miraak.' She dug a hand into her pocket and brought out the note. 'I found this on one of the bodies.'

Karliah plucked the parchment from her hand and flicked her gaze down over it. 'Solstheim,' she murmured. 'I've never been there. Gallus always said it had too small a population for it to be worth Guild resources branching out there.'

'Do you know if anyone in the Guild might have heard of this Miraak?'

Her friend shook her head. 'No, but Delvin has a brother who lives in Raven Rock. Glover. He might be able to help.'

J'shana nodded and retrieved the paper. 'Well, for now, I'm just going to get my family safe. Then I'm going to work out why they were put in danger. Keeth and I were wondering if-'

'If I'd come with you to Fort Dawnguard,' Karliah predicted. 'Of course. If those people come back, you'll need all the fighting strength you can muster. Besides, it'll be good to see Serana again.'

That brought a smile to J'shana's face. 'True. We'll be leaving soon, so if you want to tell the Guild where we're going, best move fast.'

Twenty minutes later, they were on the road. There was no point going on horseback, much as J'shana would have liked to; the entrance to Dayspring Canyon was too narrow. So they went on foot, with Meleetha and occasionally Ma'vasha riding on their parents' shoulders. Progress was slow, painfully slow, and J'shana hated seeing her children jump at every snap of a twig and look anxiously around at the woods around them.

 _When I find Miraak,_ she thought, _I'm going to kill him. And I'm going to make certain people know he's dead, so that the rest of the world can see happens if they mess with my kids._

Dawn had come and gone by the time they reached the doors of the fort, and the Dawnguard's base was already alive with activity. On the path leading to the entrance, Vori and Beleval were practising their crossbow marksmanship; inside, several of the warriors were finishing their morning meal, filling the halls with the clink of cutlery and a blur of voices. There was no sight of the person J'shana most wanted to see, so she left the others making a fuss of Ma'vasha and Meleetha and headed over to Florentius, who was buttering a piece of bread with mathematical precision. 'Florentius, do you know where Serana is?'

'Can't say I do.' The Imperial frowned. 'If you'll hold on a moment, I'll ask Arkay-'

'Don't bother,' came Serana's voice from the doorway. 'The god of the dead probably wouldn't be able to find someone undead anyway.'

J'shana turned, her whiskers twitching with pleasure. 'Serana.'

The vampire grinned at her. 'Well, look at what the cat dragged in.'

'Khajiit, thank you very much,' J'shana said.

'Same difference,' Serana shrugged, and hugged her tightly. 'Good to have you back.'

Releasing J'shana, she cast a curious gaze over the group that had followed her in. 'You brought the whole family?'

'And me,' Karliah said quietly.

'Like I said. The whole family,' Serana repeated, and stepped forward to hug her too. J'shana chuckled; Karliah, reserved as she was, generally wasn't one for physical contact, but she'd make exceptions for J'shana and Serana.

J'shana always smiled to think of how she'd introduced the pair to each other. During the time she'd spent hunting Auriel's bow with Serana, it had struck her how alike the vampire was to Karliah. Both had lives and powers affected by Daedric Princes. Both felt at home in the night. And both knew what it was to go through suffering. And some months after Harkon's death, Isran had asked them both to investigate rumours of some vampire thrallmaster who had taken command of a band of bandits. 'I can't find a location,' he'd said. 'And neither can Florentius, so I guess Arkay is having a nap. But if you know how to find the monster…'

'Not to worry,' J'shana had assured him. 'I know some people who can help.'

And she'd sent a courier to Riften. A few days later, Karliah had turned up outside the fort with all the information they'd needed. It seemed they'd have to go looking for the vampire in a Nordic tomb somewhere in the Pale, and a job like that, J'shana had thought, could use three people. 'Want to come with us?' she'd asked, and Karliah had shrugged and said that she didn't have any other Guild business to be getting on with, and she might as well practise her archery skills on a few Draugr.

So they'd set off together. And after some initial suspicion, Karliah and Serana realised that J'shana's oft-repeated phrase, 'I need to introduce you to her, you'd get on,' hadn't been without foundation.

That had been six years ago now. Six years of calling on each other for help, of sitting around each other's campfires, of crying on each other's shoulders and laughing at each other's jokes. Those six years were why Isran walked into the room and chuckled, 'Family reunion?' They were why J'shana's children referred to both women as their aunts. And they were why when J'shana asked if they could all go and talk somewhere in private, neither of them hesitated. Spending so much time in each other's company, trusting each other so completely, coming to know each other so well… it formed a bond that was almost like blood. Not quite blood, not weaker or stronger than it. Just different. And similar.

They headed out onto the battlements. The sun was fully out now, warming J'shana's fur, and somewhere out in the canyon, the piercing song of a pine thrust trilled through the air. J'shana allowed herself a few seconds to enjoy the warmth and peace and feeling of safety before pulling out Miraak's orders and handing them to Serana.

'You're probably wondering why we all came here,' she said. 'Yesterday evening, two people in robes stopped me in the streets and started ranting about how I was a false Dragonborn, and that their master, this Miraak, was coming. When I told them I wasn't Dragonborn – I was doing Guild stuff at the time – they left. Then in the middle of the night they broke into Honeyside, and tried to get me to admit to being Dragonborn by attacking Ma'vasha and Meleetha.'

Serana's initial reaction was to adopt the same stunned expression as Karliah had, and then to impulsively crush the letter in her fist. 'Bastards,' she whispered. 'Are the kids OK?'

'They're fine, just shaken.' J'shana sat down with her back against the stone parapet running along the wall.

'And how dead are these crazies now?'

'Let's just say that their metabolic processes aren't in great shape.'

Serana nodded and, unfolding the now extremely crumpled note, ran a finger down it. 'So, my guessing is – judging from this, and that heavy backpack you brought with you - you're planning on going to Solstheim to find this Miraak.'

'That's about right.'

'You realise this has all the signs of being a trap,' Karliah remarked.

'What else can I do?' J'shana sighed. 'If I don't go, they'll try again. And who'll be next? Derkeethus? Or you two?'

'I'm with J'shana on this one.' Serana passed the letter back to her. 'Sometimes all you can do is to try and stop a problem at its source. Learned that from my dad, if nothing else.'

'Like thistles in your alchemy garden, Kar,' J'shana murmured. 'If you don't rip them out at the root, they'll choke the life out of everything with any value.'

'Very philosophical,' the Dunmer said dryly.

J'shana shrugged. 'I just need to get to Solstheim, find Miraak and stop him. If I don't…'

'I?' Karliah echoed her.

'Who else is going to do it?'

'She's referring to the fact that you're saying this like you're going alone,' Serana clarified. "I.' Not 'we."

 _Oh, no._

'Don't even go there, Rana.' J'shana's ears flattened. 'You're not coming. Either of you.'

'You don't think it would be a good idea to have any help in a country you know nothing about, facing an enemy you know nothing about?' Karliah inquired.

J'shana rose to her feet. 'It would be, if these people hadn't shown that they're willing to care the people I care about to get to me. They went after my kids. My _kids._ And Garthar – Garthar _died_ because I dragged him into it. How do you think I'd feel if I took someone else with me and the same happened to them? I don't have a right to risk people's lives when mine's the only one that needs to be at stake.'

Serana snorted. 'Your life will be ten times more at stake if you do this on your own. Besides, how do you think _we'd_ feel if we let you go alone and you got killed?'

'Besides,' Karliah added, 'they're our lives to risk.'

J'shana drew in a deep breath. 'Look, it's not that I don't appreciate you offering –'

'You're not doing a great job of showing it,' Serana pointed out.

'I'm sorry. But after what happened last night, I'm just not willing to let anyone else get involved with this. The Dawnguard have already done enough by letting my family stay here –'

'That's another thing,' Karliah broke in. 'Your family. Have you told Derkeethus you're planning to go alone? Because I don't think he'd be pleased.'

'No, he'd insist I take someone with me. And I can't do that.' J'shana looked desperately between them. 'Gods, I've done things on my own before.'

Karliah stood up too, meeting J'shana's gaze. 'Listen. You know as well as we do that you're only saying this because –'

There was a quiet cough from behind them. 'Um, J'shana? Isran wants to speak to you.'

J'shana didn't often think the words _thank the Divines for Isran,_ but they were rather firmly running through her mind now. 'Thanks, Agmaer,' she said, turning to give a slightly strained smile to the Nord. 'I'm coming.'

She went. She didn't expect her friends to follow her, and they didn't.

She knew that they were right, that it was more stupid and more dangerous to do this alone. But she had no choice. It was all right going with her sworn sisters into a Dwemer ruin or a lair of insane mages. They knew that they were facing, and they knew they could face it. But anything could await her on Solstheim. And the enemy was already powerful enough to track her down despite her disguise, to appear in her home without warning and attack her children.

And she knew what would happen if she let her friends go with her. Every time she looked at them, she would see Ma'vasha and Meleetha with knives at their necks. Garthar stretched out across the walkway. Lydia limp and motionless on the ground at Kynesgrove. Her father's eyes widening as a bound sword took him through the chest.

Too many people she cared about had already suffered and died because of her. She couldn't risk her family. And she couldn't risk her sisters. To lose either of them would tear her apart.

No. It was tearing her apart, but she knew what she had to do.

* * *

Derkeethus raced through the Fort so quickly he was almost stumbling with every step. To be sure, his lack of sleep over the past two days might have been contributing to that, but the fact was that he could seldom remember running so fast.

He wished he'd been to Fort Dawnguard more often; perhaps then he'd have a better understanding of its layout. He'd taken more wrong turns than he'd known a man could take in one short journey. Isran had given him and his family separate rooms from the others, but Karliah and Serana, he knew, would be in the main sleeping area. If only he knew where that _was._

 _I knew she'd do this,_ he cursed himself as he ran. _I knew she'd try, it's who she is. I should have said something, made her realise she didn't need to. I should have stopped her._

He kept running.

At last, with no small amount of relief and a considerable feeling that it had been more luck than judgement that got him there, Derkeethus burst into the right room. He paused for a moment, scanning it from side to side, his eyes desperately seeking the Dunmer thief or the Nord vampire. The entire Dawnguard was here, curled up in their low-slung cots, stirring slightly in his sleep – everyone, except the people he needed to talk to.

At a loss, he turned to the nearest – it happened to be Beleval – and shook her awake. 'Where are Serana and Karliah?'

The Bosmer gave a few blearly blinks. 'What?'

'Serana and Karliah!' Derkeethus hissed. 'Where have they gone?'

'They're here somewhere,' Beleval murmured, pressing her face into her pillow.

'No, they're not. That is why I'm asking you where they are.'

Beleval moaned quietly and, with obvious reluctance, pushed herself upright. After a sleep glance around the hall, she nodded slowly. 'They're not here,' she conceded.

At any other time, Derkeethus might have been frustrated, but all he didn't have it in him to feel anything except pure fright. 'Beleval, please. Do you know where they are? It's J'shana. She's gone.'

This finally stirred the elf into full consciousness. 'Gone? Gone where?'

'To Solstheim. She wants to find the person behind the attack on our family.' Derkeethus was fighting to keep his voice steady now. 'She says she has gone alone, and she… she can't. She mustn't. But I can't leave our children. That's why I need to find Karliah and Serana.'

'You won't be seeing them.'

Derkeethus whipped around. He'd heard Isran talk about how 'sleep was for the weak,' but he'd always been dubious; he'd never thought that the Redguard actually kept to that statement. It appeared that he did.

'Isran.' Derkeethus ignored the loud thump as Beleval flopped back down onto her bed. 'Do you know where they have gone?'

'They left just after nightfall.' Isran dipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a slip of parchment. 'They gave me this, and told me to give it to you. Actually, their exact words were, 'Give it to him once he starts panicking.''

 _I'm panicking,_ Derkeethus thought, and took the note.

He didn't have high hopes of seeing anything that would raise his spirits. First there had been that note on the masked woman's body, then there one he'd found J'shana had left for him when he'd awoken in the night to find her gone from his side. Now this one, too. Why should it hold any better news than the other two?

Dreading what he would see, he smoothed it out and began to read. It was a hurriedly-written thing – that was clear from the ink blots – but he recognised the fine, curled letters as having been made by Karliah's hand.

 _Derkeethus,_ it began. _By the time you read this, Serana and I will have left Fort Dawnguard, as will J'shana. Unfortunately we were unable to persuade her not to take this mission entirely on her own shoulders, and it was quite clear to us that the intended to slip away in the night without informing anyone, so as to avoid having you or us try to force her to take company._

 _This is why Serana and I have decided to leave now and set out for Windhelm. With any luck, we will beat J'shana to the docks and stow away on board whatever ship she takes to Solstheim. If we are unable to reach Windhelm before her – which is entirely possible, if she enlists the help of Odahviing or Durnehviir – we will take the next boat to Solstheim and do whatever we can to find her once we reach the island. Rest assured, we will not let her do this by herself. Whatever help we can, we will give her._

Here, the writing changed to Serana's. _And when we find her, we'll give her a talking-to, don't worry. We've talked it over and we're pretty sure she's only being this unreasonable because she's scared; you know how she gets when she's upset. Still, it's not an excuse, so we'll make sure she realises she can't do this to you again._

 _And when we find Miraak, we'll see if we can't punch him in the face. Or throw him over a cliff._

At the bottom of the page, Serana had written _see you soon,_ Karliah had written _shadows hide you,_ and both had signed their names.

Derkeethus looked up from the parchment, smiling.

'Good news?' Isran asked.

'The best I could have had,' Derkeethus answered.

He was still angry with J'shana, for leaving without a goodbye, without a warning, without even trusting him with her plan. But Serana was right. When J'shana was afraid, truly afraid, she had a tendency to lose sight of what really mattered, and latch on to the only solution she could see, even if it was the wrong one. He didn't quite forgive her yet, but no doubt by the time she returned from Solstheim, he would have.

And she would return. How could she not, with friends at her side who were willing to walk into this kind of danger for her sake? Friends who could predict her actions and beat her at her own game. Friends who felt her anger and understood why she had made bad decisions. He knew that Karliah and Serana would protect her as if she were their sister.

Because when it came down to it… she was.

* * *

 **Yes, J'shana is being a bit of an idiot. Sorry. Just step back and let Karliah and Serana handle her, which they will in the next chapter. XD This is what happens when you give your poor, long-suffering characters overly traumatic backstories. I'm a terrible person.**

 **Next chapter will be up soon. Thanks for reading!**


	4. Comfort and Companionship

**Heh, and this was going to be a oneshot when I first came up with it...**

 **I hope this chapter doesn't come across as disjointed; my intention was never to give an account of the entire Dragonborn questline, but just to show moments here and there that really display the relationship J'shana and her friends have (except for the scene with Neloth, which was just me having fun). I hope it works. :)  
**

* * *

CHAPTER FOUR – COMFORT AND COMPANIONSHIP

And so it had come to this.

J'shana let Serana guide her over to one of the benches built into the deck and gently pull her down to sit on it. She kept her hands pressed over her eyes, because it was easier to block out the world. That way she didn't have to focus on anything except for Serana's arms around her shoulders, and her friend's voice murmuring, 'It'll be all right, Sha.'

And Karliah, who didn't touch her, didn't speak, but who sat next to her and simply watched. J'shana knew she was watching, because that was what Karliah did. When the Dunmer offered sympathy, you knew she was giving it, even if to anyone else it might seem that she did nothing. And just her mere presence was enough.

They had followed her, even beaten here there. Of course they had. They knew her; they were always able to predict her actions. The fact that they were there comforted her, warmed her heart, made her feel that there could be some kind of happy ending to this. And at the same time, it terrified her.

 _I didn't want this._ She pushed her face as far into her hands as she could get it. _I wanted to keep them safe, away from Miraak. I wanted them to stay close so that if Derkeethus needed them to help protect my children, they would be there. I didn't want to lead them into danger again._

But here they were.

So J'shana let herself be glad of that for now. Because with them here, she was safe. She could break down, she could let out the tears that had been pressing against her eyes from the moment she'd seen her children at the mercy of those monsters. She could be a mother terrified for the lives of her children, a wife frightened for the safety of her husband, an ordinary woman worried for the well-being of her friends. She didn't have to be the Dragonborn, or the Guildmaster, or a Dawnguard. With Karliah and Serana, she could just be J'shana. For now, at least.

She let the tears come. She let Serana hold her and Karliah emanate that calm, contactless comfort. The ship rocked gently as the waves lifted and lowered it, the wind pressed itself against her fur, and Skyrim grew more and more distant behind them. And J'shana cried, until at last she felt that enough of her confusion and fear had been translated into tears.

With a long, shuddering intake of breath, she lifted her head, and tried to brush some of the dampness from the fur around her eyes. 'Sorry,' she whispered.

'You're apologising to the wrong people, and for the wrong thing.' Karliah's voice was even as ever, but there was no avoiding the accusation in it.

'I know.' J'shana's breathing was steadier now, but her throat still felt tight. 'I left without saying anything. I just didn't know how else to do it.'

'The usual thing to do,' Serana said, removing her arm from J'shana's shoulders, 'Is to tell people what you're planning, say sorry for leaving, hug your kids, and take some company.'

And she was right, of course. That was the usual thing to do, and the right thing. And the guilt J'shana felt over the fact that she'd not done it ate at her insides like a parasite. 'That's just it, though. If I'd done any of that, you'd have insisted on coming with me. I thought this was the only way I'd be able to go alone.'

Karliah raised her brows. 'Why go alone?'

J'shana stared at her. 'We've been through this once already! I'm not risking your lives! I'd never forgive myself if something happened to either of you.'

'And we'd never forgive ourselves if we let something happen to you,' Serana countered.

Karliah fixed J'shana in her gaze. 'Answer me one question, J'shana. Do you want to be alone?'

J'shana swallowed hard. Her eyes were growing wet again. She knew there was nothing to say to this except the truth.

'No,' she whispered.

There had only been one time in her life when she had been truly alone – the two desperate, terrifying, heartbroken years between the destruction of her tribe and her meeting with Derkeethus not long after she'd arrived in Skyrim. She tried not to think about those years. Seventeen was too young to see your life burn around you, to be hunted down by the most callous force on Tamriel, to be so utterly on your own. She never wanted to live through anything like that again.

No. She didn't want to be alone. Because nothing was worse than the feeling of being unknown and unloved.

'Of course you don't,' Karliah said quietly, and placed a hand on J'shana's arm. 'I'd do almost anything to avoid being put back into the situation I was in eight years ago. I was just beginning to escape the darkest time of my life and I needed a friend. And I found you.'

'I'll second that,' Serana agreed. 'All those years watching my parents grow more interested in their plots to beat each other than with their own daughter, waking up in that tomb in a world I hardly knew any more, going home, and knowing my father wanted me dead… I felt like there was no one on Nirn who cared about me. But you'd helped me when you didn't need to, and I thought maybe I could trust you. By the blood, was I right.'

Karliah nodded. 'What we're saying is that we know how much it hurts to be alone. We know you've been through it once, after the Thalmor killed your tribe.'

'And we don't want you to be alone again,' Serana finished. 'You helped us both, Sha. We had problems we couldn't face on our own and you helped us. Now let us help you.'

She looked between them, into the indigo eyes and the glowing orange, and saw the same emotions there. Concern. Desperation. And the uncomplicated, slightly exasperated affection that only friends can give you.

'This isn't going to be safe,' she said.

Serana shrugged. 'Our lives never are.'

'You could be killed.'

'We'll take that risk,' Karliah replied.

'And I don't think I have a right to get you involved.'

'Miraak got us involved, not you,' Serana said firmly. 'He got us involved when he attacked our best friend. Who we care about a lot.'

'She's not perfect.' There was a hint of amusement in Karliah's voice now. 'She has a tendency to lose sight of what's most important. But she only does it when she's afraid for the people she loves. And they know how much she cares, so they're willing to forgive her. And sometimes they feel they know what she really wants better than she does.'

'That's what sisters are about, I guess,' Serana said, and she was smiling now.

J'shana kept looking between them.

Her father had told her once, when she'd been young, that your friends would tell you what you wanted to hear. Your best friends, though, would tell you what you needed to hear.

And they'd done that. Gods, had they done that.

Because they were right. She didn't want to be alone. She always wanted to protect the people around her, and when she'd seen her children at the mercy of murderers, that instinct had been heightened. But she'd forgotten that while her children were defenceless, she had other people around who could take care of themselves. That they had a right to make their own choices.

And that she shouldn't have left without saying goodbye.

And that she was lucky, so lucky, to have friends who understood her.

J'shana felt a sheepish smile form on her face. 'S'rendarr's mercy. I've been an idiot.'

Serana rolled hr eyes. 'No, you've been scared. There's a difference. We know you, Sha. You're not you when you're upset.'

'Because I'm the biggest over-reactor in the history of Tamriel.'

Karliah shook her head. 'It's not over-reacting to panic when you see your children almost killed. Don't focus on the mistakes you've made. Just work out how to fix them.'

It was impossible not to twist around and stare for a moment at the slowly fading horizon.

'Write to Keeth and the kids, for a start,' J'shana muttered. 'Write a letter with a lot of apologies in it.'

'Derkeethus will understand. He knows you even better than we do. He'll forgive you.' Karliah's expression grew distant for a moment. 'And we'll make sure you come back to him.'

J'shana closed her eyes. She thought of her husband's gentle chuckle and warm embrace, of Ma'vasha's bright eyes and Meleetha's laugh. There was nothing Miraak could do to stop her from returning to them. Nothing in all Tamriel could keep her from her family.

She would find Miraak and put an end to whatever it was he was planning. And she wouldn't do it alone.

'Thank you,' she whispered, and threw one arm around each of her sisters. 'And I'm sorry.'

'We'll let you off.' Serana laughed as she put one arm around J'shana and the other around Karliah, drawing them together into a circle. 'After all, you're still young, right?'

'Yeah, go and rub that in my face all you like. Trust me to make friends with the elf and the vampire.'

Karliah let out one of her rare, quiet laughs.

'You love us really,' Serana said, grinning.

'Yes.' J'shana smiled. 'Yes, I do.'

* * *

They walked down the quay together, ignoring the curious eyes turned upon them, frowning at the feel of solid ground beneath their feet after so long on the water. J'shana flicked her ears from side to side, picking up on every sound; the slap of the waves against the dock, the soft, odd sound of ash crunched underfoot, the piercing calls of gulls. Karliah regarded the ash-strewn landscape with interest. Serana tugged at the edges of her hood, drawing it as far over her face as she could.

'You have no idea how hungry I am,' she muttered. 'If you'd just have let me snack on that stubborn ship captain…'

'I said no, and I meant it,' J'shana said firmly, rolling her eyes; she knew Serana was joking. 'If you can't wait until we're out of town and find some bandits or animals, I'm happy to stay in the inn for a while so we can travel at night.'

Serana eyed the people scurrying back and forth through the streets. 'Raven Rock's got to have someone who counts as a fair target. A town drunk or something. Until I get some blood in me, my skin's going to be… sensitive.'

'I'd recommend talking about your... _condition..._ a little more quietly,' Karliah remarked.

'True, I guess.' Serana sighed. 'Been chased out of one town by a pitchfork-wielding mob, you've been chased out of them all.'

J'shana chuckled. 'This lot don't seem in much of a state to form a pitchfork-wielding mob.'

She stopped at the end of the quay, tilting her head as she looked at the ash-coated ground ahead of them. 'First step onto Solstheim soil, then.' She glanced at Karliah. 'I suppose technically this is your homeland. It's officially part of Morrowind, isn't it?'

Karliah stared at her for a moment, then slowly nodded. 'I hadn't thought of that.'

She reached down and scooped up a handful of the ash, sifting it through her fingers, letting the breeze tug it away and send it snowflaking down into the water. And J'shana knew she was thinking of how this ash had come from Red Mountain, how it had been brought here across the sea from the homeland of the Dunmer, the land her friend – raised in Skyrim as she'd been - had never seen.

'You never know,' J'shana said. 'When all this is done, we might even be able to take a trip to Morrowind.'

A smile tugged at the corner of Karliah's mouth. 'I'd like that.'

She stepped of the quay, gazing for some time at the ash beneath her feet before turning back to J'shana. 'What's our first move?'

J'shana twitched her whiskers, as she often did when thinking. 'That second Councillor person said he thought Miraak had something to do with the Earth Stone, so we'll start there.' She peered down the street ahead of them. 'Looks like it's down by the shore, that way.'

She set off, Karliah a step behind her, Serana tagging a little way behind. 'I can see why the Guild never really bothered with this place,' she murmured, as they passed the market. 'It's not in a great shape.'

'Too much ash and not enough money,' Karliah said, shaking her head. 'I wonder if-'

'Hey, you with the fur.'

J'shana's fur bristled; the voice had an edge to it that put her on instant alert. She recognised the gruff tones characteristic of Orsimer, and she was unsurprised to see, turning, that the speaker was indeed an Orc; thickset, greyish-skinned, and with sideburns to rival a Khajiit's mane.

She eyed the Orc, and the axe in his belt, with no small amount of wariness, glad for the presence of Karliah and Serana on either side of her. 'Do you want something?'

'Yeah. You're new here, so I want to give you a warning, and I'm gonna give it to you only once.' The Orc's eyes narrowed. 'Stay out of my way, and we'll do just fine. I don't know you, and the last thing I want is a bunch stranger with their nose in my business. So keep away from me.'

He turned and marched away towards the docks.

J'shana blinked, stared at his retreating figure for a moment, then shrugged. 'I guess there's a Grelka in every town.'

Serana was eyeing the Orc with interest. 'Yes. Someone you don't need to feel guilty about.'

She raised her eyebrows, the question clear on her face, and J'shana shrugged. 'Oh, go on, then.'

'Great.' Serana rubbed her hands together. 'Where can I find you?'

'If there's an inn, we'll be there. If not, we'll wait for you by this Earth Stone thing.'

The vampire nodded. 'See you after lunch,' she said, and set off after the Orc.

J'shana looked at Karliah. Karliah looked at J'shana. They both looked at the Orc, blissfully oblivious of his impending fate as Serana's next meal.

'You can't complain,' Karliah said eventually. 'You drink milk.'

J'shana pretended to slap her. 'Come on. Let's find the inn.'

* * *

Serana crouched beside the pile of wood, her face furrowing with concentration as she extended her hands towards it. A spark lit in each of her palms, and with a flick of her fingers, Serana sent flame leaping onto the branches. They ignited with a soft hiss.

From her seat on top of a moss-covered log, J'shana gave an appreciative nod. 'Nice.'

'Certainly better than hours struggling to coax a flame out of pieces of flint and steel,' Karliah agreed.

'They say Dunmer have an affinity with magic. Especially fire.' Serana straightened up. 'If you just found a spell tome, you could learn fairly easily.'

Karliah gave her a non-committal shrug. 'I never had much desire to learn any magic. After specialising in thievery, archery and alchemy, I didn't want to spread my skills too far. Try to become an expert in too many things, and you'll find your aptitude for them all slipping. So my mother always said, anyway.'

'Unless you have a Skeleton Key, of course.' J'shana hopped down from the log and examined the dead goat she and Karliah had spent the last hour carving into eatable-sized chunks. 'I don't suppose anyone else thought to bring any cooking equipment?'

Karliah shook her head. 'I never use any. Sticks worked well enough for me for twenty-five years.'

'And I don't exactly need to cook my food,' Serana added.

J'shana shrugged and reached into her backpack. 'Well, we have one small pan between us.'

'It'll do.' Karliah took it and began dropping the goat meat into it. 'Only question is how to occupy ourselves while we wait for it to cook.'

Serana reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cards. 'I may not have remembered cooking tools, but I did bring this. Anyone for a game?'

J'shana stuck up one hand, and Karliah nodded.

As Serana dealt out the cards, and Karliah carefully placed the pan over the fire, J'shana jumped back on top of the log and held a hand over her eyes – not to block out the sun, but to block out the ash. They had walked most of the day after setting out from Raven Rock, but once night had fallen, they had all agreed that stopping to make camp would be wiser than pressing on. In an unfamiliar landscape, with no idea of what kind of creatures inhabited this odd, almost alien island, travelling at night time wasn't a good idea.

J'shana flicked her tail. 'How much further do you reckon it is to this… temple thing of Miraak's?'

'No way to tell.' Karliah straightened up from the fire, dusting off her hands. 'That bad-tempered elf at the Earth Stone only said the centre of island. I think we're about three-quarters of the way there.'

'If we set out early tomorrow morning, we should be there by noon.' Serana held out the now-divided card deck. 'So, which set is trumps? I vote humans.'

'Beastfolk,' J'shana said quickly.

'Elves,' Karliah countered.

They glanced at each other.

'Dragons it is, then.' Serana shrugged and fanned out her deck. 'Who's playing first?'

'Isn't the rule youngest first?' J'shana chuckled.

'I always heard ladies first. And technically I have the title of _Lady_ Serana –'

'Of the vampire court we destroyed, yes.'

'Let's just play,' Karliah said firmly, tossing a card down. 'Two of Beastfolk.'

J'shana mulled over her hand. 'I reckon we should keep a permanent watch tonight. Quite apart from the wildlife that could be out here, we've no way of knowing if that mind control is going to start affecting us. Four of Dragons.'

'Being asleep or awake might not make a difference,' Serana warned her. 'Six of Elves.'

'Housecarl of Elves. J'shana's right, though we might be protected.'

Serana frowned. 'Protected how?'

'You're not technically alive. I don't know if that'll protect you, but it should be a defense barrier.' J'shana threw down another card. 'Five of Dragons. I've got my dragon blood, and Karliah and I are both sworn to Nocturnal. I suppose you've got Molag Bal, too.'

'I stand by what I said earlier. That structure around the Earth Stone had an… aura around it. And it felt Daedric.' Karliah pursed her lips. 'In that case, Nocturnal and Molag Bal may be able to protect us.'

'Not likely.' Serana snorted. 'Molag Bal isn't exactly a look-after-his-followers kind of Daedra.'

'No Daedra likes to lose someone affected by their influence to another Prince,' J'shana pointed out. 'I reckon it should be enough. Are you playing a card or not?'

'I am indeed.' Serana whipped one from her deck with a flourish. 'Enough chatting. Now it's war.'

* * *

'We said _no.'_

Neloth looked between them with a mixture of frustration and disappointment on his face. 'You have no idea how valuable this information could be. For the sake of magical research! A woman with a dragon's soul, a pure-blooded vampire -'

'I still want to know how you worked that out,' Serana told him through gritted teeth. 'And why I shouldn't start to get hungry.'

'I couldn't call myself a Master Wizard of-'

'Of the house Telvanni.' J'shana mouthed the words along with him, and Karliah's mouth twitched.

'- If I couldn't recognise the basic types of undead.'

' _Basic?'_

'And besides, I wouldn't have to carry out any kind of experiments on _you_ if you'd simply explain the story behind your eye colour. Daedric influence, I suppose – or perhaps a mark of a direct shared bloodline with –'

'Keep guessing,' Karliah told him, emphatically turning her back and marching towards the transportation beam. Serana followed quickly. J'shana shrugged apologetically at the mage.

'Sorry. But we do need to talk to hurry up and get to Nchardak.'

'If you were to stay in Tel Mithryn just for a few experiments, this investigation would not take more than a few days!'

'No.'

'Have you no consideration for the wealth of knowledge this could contribute to magical science?'

'No.'

'All it would require would be the extraction of some blood. Perhaps a brief vivisection – an examination of your vampire friend's small intestine might prove-'

' _No!'_

* * *

None of them saw the dragon coming until it was almost upon them.

It gave itself away, in the end; its roar of, 'Miraak has commanded your death. So it shall be!' would have betrayed its presence even if the sound of its wingbeats hadn't. J'shana wrenched her bow down from her back and turned her eyes towards the sky in time to see the dragon – huge, brown-scaled, talons extended – dropping towards them like a hawk onto a mouse.

'Dragon!' Serana shouted, somewhat unnecessarily.

Neloth let out a yelp. 'By Malacath's toenails, where did that come from?'

Karliah stumbled back as it landed, regained her balance, and whipped an arrow onto her bowstring. 'Over here!' she roared, distracting it for the moment J'shana needed.

' _Joor ZAH FRUL!'_

The Shout lashed out from her body, slamming into the dragon like a small, translucent tsunami, sending it reeling back. The familiar blue glow surrounded it, pushing at it from every side, and the howl it gave was a desperate, agonised cry. ' _Bein rotmulaag!_ What foul words are these?'

'They're my words,' J'shana told him, striding forwards so that he could see her dragonscale armour, the pale grey fur and amber eyes that all dragonkind would forever associate with their most feared enemy. ' _Zu'u Dovahkiin._ Leave us, and you live.'

The dragon let out a snakelike hiss, rage flaring in his eyes. 'I do not flee from _grah._ Only Miraak is _Dovahkiin._ Only his _thu'um_ has mastery. You die here. I shall burn all.'

'This won't end well for you!' Serana snapped at him, her fingers curling around an ice spell. 'Back off!'

'I killed Alduin.' J'shana loaded her bow and aimed it at the dragon's head. 'I'm not afraid to kill you, but I don't want to – you and I share blood. Leave now. Compared to the World-Eater, what chance do you think you have?'

She'd made this speech to almost every dragon who had confronted her since she'd watched the World-Eater's soul spiral up into the Sovngarde sky, and sometimes, the enemy would listen. Sometimes they'd value their life over their stubborn pride and retreat, recognising when they faced a foe that outmatched them. But most often, they set reason aside, laughed at the idea of a mortal overpowering them, and hurled themselves into the battle.

This dragon did exactly that.

Dragonrend still pinned him to the ground, but J'shana had learned long ago that even when forced to surrender use of their wings, dragons could move fast, and with deadly purpose. Those wings were made for sky, not earth, but that didn't mean they were useless when the dragon was grounded. The brown-scale used them now, reaching forward with both, the huge claws carving notches in the stone as the dragon bounded towards J'shana. She watched him a moment, letting him come, observing everything she could about the way he moved, which wing seemed stronger, how he moved his neck and his tail, before lifting her head and shouting. 'Strategy three!'

'Got it!' Serana shouted, and Karliah gave a terse nod.

'What strategy might that be?' Neloth demanded.

J'shana had no time to answer; the dragon was almost upon her. She replaced her arrow in her quiver and slung Auriel's bow back over her shoulder; strategy three didn't require her to be armed with a long-range weapon just yet. She dropped into a crouch, mimicking the stance of her quadruped kin, placing her fingers on the ground, every muscle taut and ready. As the dragon closed the last of the distance between them, jaws opening, she sprang directly upwards, letting his teeth snap shut on the air where she'd been a moment before, drawing her dagger in mid-air and dropping back down onto the creature's head.

She had noticed that this one moved his neck a lot, so she was unsurprised when he instantly tossed his head upwards. She'd not had time to grasp a horn or a scale to keep herself down, so she moved with his throw, letting him launch her back into the air. _Khajiit land on their feet,_ she thought with satisfaction as she came down on his back. Having grown accustomed to sensing the movements of dragons as she sprang about over their bodies, she could tell in a heartbeat that he was turning his head to face her and sucking in air to Shout. She gritted her teeth; she would have to abandon her tactical advantage and jump back to the ground. As soon as she heard the first word of his Shout, she leaped, letting the fire sweep harmlessly past her.

That was all right. She, Serana and Karliah had fought more dragons together than they could count. Many of their evening campfire conversations had involved them poring over sketches and jotting notes onto parchment, working out methods that the three of them could use to infallibly bring them down. In this particular setting – limited space for ranged attacks, and an extra player present in the form of Neloth – strategy three was definitely the best plan.

The idea was simple. While two of them – or three, in this case – distracted the dragon with taunts and arrows or spells, a third would jump or climb up onto the dragon, trying to reach the vulnerable parts of the head. A dagger or arrow there could often kill instantly. If the climber appeared to be in danger, the others could catch the dragon's attention long enough for her to jump down. And even if none of them got near the head, very often the strategy provided a means for those on the ground to get a clear shot at the eye – the only part of a dragon that had absolutely no defence.

' _Fah dii inro moro, hi dir!'_ the dragon screeched, whipping around to face J'shana, but it had barely finished the sentence when Serana raced towards that thick tail, with its spines exactly the right length and shape to provide footholds, and darted up it onto the dragon's back. This was J'shana's cue to retreat a few paces and reach in for that spark of rage and power within her that fuelled her Voice. As the dragon turned its attention onto Serana, the important thing was to keep it from twisting its head to face her.

'Fo _KRAH DIIN!'_

The impact of the Shout, and its blood-freezing effect, was enough to keep the beast still long enough for Serana to reach its shoulders. It lifted a wing, the claw swiping towards the vampire, ready to either knock her off or rip her in half, but Karliah was there in an instant, her arm moving faster than J'shana's eyes could follow. In the time it would have taken her to blink, there were three arrows embedded in the dragon's wing joint, a place where armoured plating gave way to thin, easily pierced scales and skin, and the dragon stopped its attack with a howl.

That left another wing, the tail, and the head still free to knock Serana from her perch. The vampire was doggedly making her way forward, but she wouldn't make it if the dragon continued his increasingly more erratic thrashing. There came a moment in every battle against a dragon that J'shana called 'the realisation point.' It was the second their pride gave way to fear as they realised that for the first time in their lives, they were facing an opponent that was their equal, an opponent that could be the end of them. She could see it in the dragon's eyes now, but while he was beginning to worry, he was far from beaten.

J'shana ducked under another Fire Breath Shout and darted over to Neloth, who was sending bolt after bolt of lightning into the dragon's side. 'Get his wing,' she hissed.

To her relief, the Dunmer didn't argue, and she didn't doubt that he would be capable of immobilising that wing. Though his constant requests to dissect them were annoying, their time in Nchardak had proved that he was a very, very capable battlemage.

That left the head and the tail to attend to, and a quick signal to Karliah indicated her intent. Her fellow Nightingale swapped her bow for her dagger and darted around the dragon's rear. The tail of a _dovah_ had no real weaknesses, except for the thin membrane of the tip. And Karliah set to work slicing it to shreds, her blade moving with ferocious speed.

And now J'shana had the most dangerous part of the dragon to deal with. Serana was making her way down the neck now, and a shared glance between them communicated everything they needed to. She couldn't afford to get too close, in case the dragon retaliated by attacking her and in doing so shook Serana from his back - but there were other ways to distract a _dovah._

' _Hi los sahlo,'_ she snarled – she knew there was no greater insult she could give it than to call it weak. 'You said you would see us burn, but four mortals have proven a match for you.'

It let out a hideous screech, its eyes bulging with fury. ' _Pahlok sunvaar!_ You are not a match for me. _Hi dir nu,_ and with you die your lies. I shall rend your flesh –'

'Rend this!' Serana yelled, launching herself the final distance – and driving an ice spike through each of its eyes.

The dragon had no time to duck, no time to stop her, no time even to howl. Nothing survives an arm-long spear of ice piercing the brain, let alone two. There was no slow crumpling, no final twitch. The dragon simply crashed to the ground, dead before its face hit the stone, its soul already beginning to detach from its form and float towards J'shana.

She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw, ready for the grip of rage that would come with the absorption. It came, as it always did, but she was used now to steeling her mind against it, to fighting it down. And when she felt Serana's hand on her shoulder, and Karliah's murmur of encouragement, the battle was easier still.

 _Krosulhah,_ the last remnants of the dragon's soul breathed into her mind before fading away.

J'shana breathed in deeply, opened her eyes, and gave a single nod in the direction of the now bare-boned body of the dragon. _'Frolaaz nii.'_

'Incredible!'

Neloth strode towards her; J'shana started, unable to believe that he was praising them, but soon realised that his statement had been directed towards the dragon skeleton. He crouched beside it, gently running his fingers over the bones. 'Remarkable pneumatisation. Now, if only I could find a way to transport this back to Tel Mithryn for study…'

'We're not dragging it for you,' Serana said shortly.

J'shana turned to face her friends. 'Are you all right?'

'I thought you had more faith in us,' Karliah said, returning her bow to her back with a deft flick of her wrist. 'Are _you_ all right?'

'And where's your faith in me?'

'You're the one who was at most risk. You were insulting it to its face,' Serana pointed out.

'And you're the one who did most the prancing around on its back.' J'shana grinned at her. 'Nicely done, by the way. Bang in the eye.'

The vampire shook her head. 'Couldn't have done it if you two and Neloth hadn't kept its limbs out of the equation. Teamwork, right there.'

J'shana smiled. She'd found herself doing that more and more over the past few days. Everything about this quest shook her – the truth about Miraak, the pure evil that emanated from every part of Apocrypha, the unnatural spell that had fallen over Solshtheim. And the knowledge that sooner or later, she and Miraak would have to confront each other, and that only one could survive.

But when her sisters fought alongside her, as they had done against Krosulhah, and proved just how well they knew each other and understood each other… it was easy to forget about Miraak. And easy to be relieved that they'd come with her.

'You know,' she said, 'I'm glad you two never listen to me.'

* * *

 **I wonder, did Karliah and Serana come off as a little more light-hearted here than they do in the game? I hope they did (though not overly so), since I imagine that with their respective problems sorted and new lives among friends, they'd both be a little happier with their lives. Same goes, I think, for J'shana, compared to some of my other stories she's been in.**

 **Now, the next chapter will be the last one - my stories always seem to become longer than intended, but I know this one will end with five chapters. Thanks for reading!**


	5. Serenity and Sisterhood

**Here's the last chapter! Turned out longer than expected, but there was a lot to be said... the Ta'agra in it comes from the online dictionary at the website 'The Ta'agra Project.'**

 **Thank you for reading, and thanks again to my friends who inspired this story.**

* * *

CHAPTER FIVE – SERENITY AND SISTERHOOD

The snow crunched gently under J'shana's knees as she knelt before Storn's body.

It was hard to look at the limp form of the Skaal shaman, and harder still to keep the horror of his last moments from her mind. His last, defeated groan, Hermaeus Mora's mocking voice, and Frea's agonised cry. And the twisted, brutal way that Mora had chosen to grant the final word of the Bend Will Shout – by carving the Draconic letters into the dead man's body.

J'shana closed her eyes and prayed that his spirit, wherever it was, was safe. She didn't know what to think of the Skaal's idea of the All-Maker, when she knew that the Nine Divines were real. She had walked in Sovngarde and received her soul from Akatosh himself. But Storn had gone to his death believing that he would return to the All-Maker. And with his wisdom, wisdom rivalling that of J'shana's most beloved teachers, Arngeir, Esbern and Paarthurnax… well, who was she to question his faith?

She turned her face to the sky, opened her eyes, and silently begged the All-Maker to receive Storn with honour. And, if he, or she, or it, watched over others apart from the Skaal, to help J'shana protect his or her or its people.

 _I came to Solstheim with the sole intention of saving my family,_ she thought. _Now, All-Maker, if you're there, I've come to want to save yours to. Be with me as I go to face the one who threatens them. And if I don't return… watch over my friends._

She rose to her feet. They were there beside her, of course, as always.

'It wasn't your fault,' Karliah said, her voice soft but firm.

J'shana nodded. 'I know.'

Serana's eyebrows lifted a fraction. 'That makes a change.'

'I don't think any of us could have done anything to prevent this.' J'shana sighed, and the wind caught the sound and whipped it away into the still noon air. 'I have to find Miraak. I need the Bend Will Shout to do that. And there was no other way to learn it. If Storn had refused to do this, I'd have tried to find some other way, but… the way things are, I don't see how things could have been different.'

'And she gets a sense of proportion at last,' Serana murmured, very, very quietly.

'There's nothing else to do now except to make his sacrifice worth something,' J'shana said, ignoring Serana's comment. 'And I… I think we know what that means.'

She reached into her bag and brought out the Black Book.

'J'shana.' Karliah placed her hand on the Book's cover, forcing J'shana to keep it shut. 'Before you do this, think. Miraak knows you're coming. Is there no other way?'

'If there is, I can't see it.' J'shana gently brushed her friend's hand from the Book and tucked the hefty tome under one arm – she had no intention of opening it just yet. 'And there's no time to look for another. Every time I've seen Miraak since I first saw him in Apocrypha, when he appeared and took all those dragon souls… he's felt stronger. I sensed it. He's getting ready to return. We have to stop him before he can. _I_ have to stop him.'

She looked into their eyes, first into the indigo and then into the fiery orange, and the distress and fear she saw there somehow warmed her heart. Despite everything, it made something small but fierce shine inside her to know how much they cared.

'I wish we could go with you,' Serana whispered. Her voice was suddenly hoarse. 'All these battles we've fought, we've fought together. We came here with you so you wouldn't have to be alone.'

There was more pain on Karliah's face than J'shana had seen there since she'd said her farewells to Gallus's spirit. 'How powerful is he?'

J'shana bit her lip. She thought of the spell Miraak had cast over the entire island, of his Daedric magic, of the legends she'd read about him since arriving on the island, of the dragon skeletons strewn around his temple, of the dark aura of sheer force that had emanated from him in their previous meetings, however brief they had been. He was ages older than her; he had had centuries to attune himself to the power of the Voice, while she had been able to wield it for only ten.

He was powerful. Very powerful. Too powerful.

But… young as she was, J'shana had power too. She had slain Alduin, the World-Eater himself, and too many other _dovahhe_ than she cared to count. She had defeated Mercer Frey, a man who had held the Skeleton Key and the means to unlock all his natural potential. She had faced Lord Harkon, perhaps the most powerful vampire to ever live, and she had won.

To be sure, she had been given help in all those battles – from the heroes of Sovngarde against Alduin, from Nocturnal and Meeko against Mercer, and from Serana against Harkon. But it had still been her arrows that had claimed Harkon and Alduin's lives, her Shout that had sent Mercer flying down to his doom. She _knew_ she was a skilled fighter, for she was a hunter of the Tygra tribe, and the Tygra held weapons from almost the moment their hands were strong enough to grip one. Gods, she'd experienced some kind of battle, whether it be a deadly struggle between life and death or a simple hunt, almost every day since she had been about fourteen years old. While Miraak had been trapped in Apocrypha for untold eons.

And she had so much to fight for. A loving, brave husband. Two wonderful children. And friends.

Sisters.

She nodded slowly.

'I think,' she said quietly, 'that we're equals.'

She met their gazes, and she was relieved to see smiles there.

'You've changed since we came here,' Karliah told her. 'In these past few weeks, you've…'

She hesitated, but Serana finished for her. 'Since that first time you met Miraak, you've been less…' She gestured for a few seconds, before finding the word she'd clearly been struggling to pin down. 'Doubting.'

J'shana frowned, considered this, and slowly nodded.

'You're probably right. You both know how hard I find it to cope with being Dragonborn. The trouble it puts me and my family in, and the responsibility, and knowing that it was a path that was always set out for me that I could never have avoided if I didn't want to watch the world burn – all that's been hard to take. You know that.' She flicked her tail thoughtfully. 'But then I met Miraak. And I realised that my being Dragonborn was more important than I realised.'

'You didn't realise saving the world was important?' Serana stared at her, the bafflement clear on her face.

J'shana shook her head. 'No, of course I realised that. What I mean is, Miraak was chosen to be Dragonborn too. But he turned his back on what it really meant. Am I…' She hesitated. 'Am I allowed to be a little proud of myself for not doing that?'

'Yes,' Serana said briskly.

'I don't think I am, really, since it was just the normal thing to do. I mean, the thing any person with any good in them would have done. But… I don't know. Seeing the destruction Miraak's causing, I feel like I have a choice in a way I never felt I did with Alduin. I don't know whether it's just because I'm older and I know more about myself and the world and everything, but I feel like I could walk away from this. I _can't,_ because of what would happen if I did, and I don't want to. I never would. But it still feels like… he was a Dragonborn who made the wrong choices, and I'm one who's trying to make the right choices, and something about that makes me feel like I'm not a pawn. I'm a person with a power I can use as I choose. And I choose it to do some good in this world if I can, and if that hurts me, well, that's just the price I have to pay.'

She breathed in deeply; that speech had come out rather quickly. 'I guess what I'm trying to say is that for the first time in my life, I'm not just honoured that the Divines thought I was worthy. I'm actually glad they chose me. I'm glad I'm the one being given this chance to put things right. Someone had to stop Alduin and Miraak. And I'm glad it's me.'

Her friends stared at her for a moment. They turned to each other, seemed to briefly acknowledge the fact that they were both wearing identical expressions of surprise, and looked back at J'shana.

'That kind of thing,' Serana said slowly, 'is what we've been trying to tell you for years.'

J'shana curled her tail, glad that no one could see Khajiit blush under their fur. 'I know.'

'Did it really take being confronted with someone as evil is Miraak to make you realise that?' Karliah's brow was furrowed.

'Well, yes. That, and other things. Being away from Skyrim, for a start. It's harder to think there, because I'm always trying to live one of my two lives and work out which one I need to be when. But the people who could put me in danger there can't reach me here – for the moment, anyway. It's like I was given breathing space so I could think. And I've reached some decisions. Or I'm reaching them, at least.'

'Which are?' Serana pressed her.

'I'll tell you when I come back.' J'shana glanced down at the Black Book. 'I don't want to start making plans for the future until I know I have one.'

She cast another look at Storn's body. He had suffered for so long, knowing his fate, and yet when Mora had finally killed him, it had been the work of a single moment. She'd seen so many deaths over her twenty-nine years. She'd seen the eyes glaze over, heard the breathing stop, felt the heartbeats fade away, as _that_ moment came – the instant when the victim lost their hold on life and fell away into the hands of the Gods – or those of the Daedra, depending on who they were and what they had done.

What would it be like, if she were to fall at Miraak's hands? She hoped it would be quick, that a blow or a Shout would finish her in an instant, so that she'd have no time to think of Derkeethus and Ma'vasha and Meleetha, waiting in vain for her to come home, or of the Guild, left without a leader, or of the thousands who would die if Miraak returned.

But then, in Sovngarde, she'd have an eternity to think of those things.

Wordlessly, she gestured to her companions, and they followed her as she walked away from the centre of the village. As soon as she had passed the last house, she stopped. She wanted to be away from the dead Storn and the grieving Frea for this. She needed to be alone with her friends, where the Skaal could not see them.

'I don't think I need to tell you two how much your friendship has meant to me since I met you both,' J'shana told them, struggling to keep tears from choking her voice. 'I owe you more than I can ever say. I know I was an idiot over it at first, but I'm glad you came with me.'

'We know,' Karliah replied. 'We're glad too.'

'And I think we owe you more,' Serana added. 'I'm not sure you realise how much you've done for us.'

'Who owes who what doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm grateful. I couldn't have better friends. Or better sisters.'

'The feeling's mutual,' Karliah said, and Serana nodded.

J'shana glanced down at the snow-cloaked ground. 'If I don't come back, tell Derkeethus and the children… Gods, they know, but tell them I love them. And that I'm sorry they couldn't come home.'

'We'll tell them,' Serana promised. 'And we'll look after them. As best we can.'

'I know you will.' J'shana turned to face Karliah. 'Bryn will have to lead the Guild. I know he's getting old, but he's the best man for the job. Give him all the help you can. And… Nocturnal will be needing another Nightingale.'

To her relief, Karliah didn't waste time insisting that it wouldn't be necessary, that J'shana would be coming home. 'Are we still going with Etienne?'

'Yes.' J'shana smiled; after she'd freed him from the Thalmor Embassy, the Breton had become a good friend to her, her closest in the Guild after Karliah and Brynjolf. She trusted him to take on her Nightingale mantle. 'And if he says no, ask Rune.'

Karliah nodded. 'We won't let the Key be taken again. That's a promise.'

'And if Isran listens to me, I'll try to keep the Dawnguard in check,' Serana chipped in.

'Thanks. And if Miraak does come back… go to Sky Haven Temple. Tell the Blades. And High Hrothgar – Paarthurnax might be able to rally some of the dragons. Do whatever you can to make sure the world's ready. Don't… don't let him win.'

 _Don't make my death be in vain,_ she added silently. _Don't make Derkeethus lose his wife and Ma'vasha and Meleetha grow up with no real memories of their mother for nothing._

Karliah looked directly into J'shana's eyes. 'If you don't come back, we will make sure you're remembered.'

'And we'll fight for everything you fought for until Miraak regrets what he did.' Serana's jaw was clenched.

'Thank you.' J'shana stopped trying to hold back her tears – it was too much effort. 'And… take care of yourselves. _Fusozay var var._ Be happy.'

She thought of how they'd been when she'd first met them both. Karliah had been so _tired_ , pain in her eyes and in her voice in every moment. The world, and Nocturnal, and Mercer Frey, had been cruel to her beyond imagination, and they had almost crushed her. Only that fierce spirit, and her devotion to everything she loved, had kept her going. Now, she was different. Still reserved, still softly-spoken and still, occasionally, prone to retreating into silence to mourn everything she had lost. But more willing to smile, more able to laugh, more confident in herself and in everything she stood for.

And Serana. When they had joined forces to stop Harkon, it hadn't taken long for J'shana to realise just how lonely the vampire was. Used as a pawn by both her parents, with one of them willing to sacrifice her, and thrown into a world where eons had collapsed since she'd last seen it. She'd had to kill her own father, and J'shana knew that the guilt of it still weighed on her. But with every passing day since Harkon's death, her natural warmth and friendliness had grown stronger and clearer.

And what of herself? It was hard to reconcile the person she was now with the girl she had been when she first entered Skyrim. Her past still burdened her, but not as much. She still grieved for what had been taken from her, but every day, what she had seemed to become more beautiful and valuable.

They'd changed each other, and for the better.

Miraak did not have this. He could never have this. This sisterhood, this trust, this friendship. He had nothing, only dark ambition and dreams of power. He _was_ nothing.

And so she could beat him. She _would_ beat him.

She stepped forward and wrapped one arm around each of her sisters. These would not be her last moments on Nirn, she knew they wouldn't be, they _couldn't_ be. But if they were, then let them be like this. With all of them making no attempt to stop their mostly silent tears, holding each other close, remembering everything they had been through together, and praying that they would still have a chance to go through more.

And at last, the unspoken agreement passed between them that this was the moment, and nothing more could be said, nothing more could be done. They released her, J'shana stepped back, met their eyes.

' _Tonshe dorr skra'il, ahziss nak-roliter,'_ she whispered, and opened the Black Book.

She kept looking at them, not dropping her eyes to the page, even as the world blurred around her, and the now-familiar chill stole through her body as that unnatural, inexorable grip wrapped around her neck and pulled her down and away.

The rush of something that was like wind but not wind brushed her fur flat, and for a moment all was darkness. No ground beneath her feet, no air reaching her lungs, and a sensation that was both like falling and flying. And then she landed, on her feet, as a Khajiit should, and the world around her was dim and filled with shadows, the air filled with whispers of knowledge of things mortalkind was never meant to know.

Apocrypha. Again. For the last time.

J'shana of the Tygra tribe, the Last Dragonborn, breathed in deeply and pulled her bow down from her back.

'Miraak,' she hissed. 'It's time to end this. I'm coming.'

* * *

They stood for a moment, neither of them speaking, staring at the place where their friend had disappeared. Then Karliah let out a sigh, selected the nearest rock and sank down onto it, folding her hands in her lap. 'Well, that's that.'

'I guess all we can do now is wait.' Serana copied the Dunmer, dropping cross-legged onto the snow – she didn't feel the cold so much.

There was a lengthy silence.

'She'll come back,' Karliah said firmly.

Serana nodded. 'She will.'

Another pause.

'She'd best not take too long.' Serana wrapped her arms around her chest. 'Could get a little boring sitting here.'

Karliah chuckled softly, then frowned. 'What was that she said?'

'I think it was Ta'agra.' Serana's brow furrowed. ' _Tonshe dorr skra'il, ahziss nak-roliter.'_

'You're the one who reads the lore-books. What does that mean?'

'Something like… give me a moment. _Tonshe_ is 'thank you.' _Dorr skra'il…'_ Serana concentrated for a few moments more, then nodded. 'She said, 'thank you for everything, my name-sisters.'

'Name-sisters?' Karliah echoed.

'Khajiit tradition, I think. Might be just the Tenmar Forest tribes, I'm not sure.' Serana ran a hand through her hair. 'If someone feels like family to you, even though you're not related, you say they're your _nak-aaliter._ A name-sibling, because you've named them as a sibling. Something like that.'

Karliah nodded. 'We'll have to ask J'shana.'

'When she comes back.'

'Which she will.'

'She'd better.'

A bird trilled somewhere just out of sight.

'You know, I don't think we have to sit here without moving until she gets back,' Serana remarked.

'And if she comes back and we're not here?' Karliah shook her head. 'We have to stay.'

'We also have to eat. Well, you do.'

'I ate earlier.'

Serana let the matter drop, and they kept looking at the last footprints J'shana had made in the snow. New snow was beginning to fall now, very lightly, but persistent enough that it would soon fill the imprints of the Khajiit's boots.

'I wonder what's happening there right now,' Serana murmured.

'She said that when she went there before, she had to trawl through any amount of corridors before she reached what she was looking for. No doubt she'll have to do the same now. And who knows how long it'll take her to bring down Miraak?'

Serana grinned suddenly. 'The First Dragonborn versus the Last. Wish I could see the fight.'

'As long as it ends well,' Karliah said grimly.

'It'll end well.'

'And if it doesn't?'

Serana hesitated, then drew in a deep breath. 'If it doesn't, we do what she asked us to. Go back to Skyrim, tell Derkeethus, get people ready to face what's coming. And as for us… I know both of us will have lost a friend if she doesn't come back. But, speaking for myself… I'll have lost one sister, but I'll still have another.'

Karliah was silent for a long moment. Then she smiled and nodded. 'So will I.'

The dull, metallic clang of a hammer on metal drifted towards them from the direction of the centre of the village. Voices rose and fell.

'Do you remember that Dwemer ruin we went to?' Serana said suddenly.

'Which one?'

'The one with the orb and the bottomless drop.'

Karliah laughed. ' _That_ one. It would be hard to forget. Though it wasn't exactly bottomless, since we did eventually land.'

'Felt bottomless while we were falling,' Serana said, shrugging.

'You know it was your fault. J'shana told you she thought we should investigate the place before anyone touched that orb-'

'And I went and touched it, I know.' Serana held up her hands. 'In my defence…'

Karliah's eyebrows shot upwards. 'You have a defence?'

Serana breathed in as if to speak, stopped, tried again, stopped again, and shook her head. 'No.'

'And,' Karliah added, 'allow me to remind you that when that cage went up, J'shana was stuck outside. So when the floor gave way, she was stuck thinking we'd fallen to our deaths, _and_ she didn't have a strong enough grasp of that Become Ethereal Shout of hers to be able to walk through solid objects yet, so she was stuck there until the cage went down, and she could use the Shout to jump after us.'

'I know, I know…'

'Meanwhile,' Karliah continued, 'We had to fight through a hundred Falmer-'

'Twenty at the most.'

'And then we get back to where we started to find J'shana's followed us, so we have to wait for her to show up.'

Serana exchanged her defensive expression for one of amusement. 'Her face when she saw us.'

'It _was_ noon, and we hadn't eaten in six hours. She couldn't expect us to not break out our food supplies.'

'Didn't mean she had to be pleased,' Serana said, grinning. It was one of those memories that couldn't be remembered without a smile – J'shana, her fur damp and smeared with slime from the Thalmor tunnels, stumbling towards them where they sat on the steps outside the Dwemer ruin's entrance. And finding them with Karliah's cape removed from her armour and spread on the ground in front of them, their meal of bread and cold meat arranged on it, and both of them nonchalantly picking at it, discussing their journey through the tunnel.

J'shana had stared at them for what might have been a full minute before speaking. 'I just jumped down a bottomless pit without any idea if it was short enough for the Ethereal Shout to last until I reached the bottom, and not knowing if you two were even _alive,_ trekked up through a horde of about a thirty Falmer –'

'Wait, we missed a few?' Serana had said, frowning.

'And now I find you _jekosiit_ sitting… snacking!'

'The ham's good,' Serana told her, through a mouthful of it.

J'shana gaped at them for a few seconds more, then rolled her eyes and slumped down beside them. 'Let's try it, then. Did we bring any ale?'

It was one of those moments where everything had simply felt right with the world. Like the pain that each of them carried in their pasts didn't matter. As they sat on the steps, sharing out the food between them, gently ribbing Serana over her idiocy in touching the orb, life had been good.

Remembering it brought back a ghost of that feeling, and Karliah smiled, wondering as she did why Serana had brought it up. To distract her from her worry over J'shana, maybe? Or perhaps she was trying to say, _I know it'll be hard for us both if J'shana dies, but we managed without her in that tunnel. We can manage without her again._

And it was true. It would be painful, almost as painful as losing Gallus had been, but the agony of loss always lessened slightly with time.

It had been the first time, Karliah realised, that she and Serana had done anything on their own together. Before, J'shana had always been there. It was J'shana who, up until that point, each of them had referred to as their best friend. But after that journey, Karliah had found herself referring to, or at least thinking of J'shana as 'one of my best friends.'

She had a feeling it had been the same for Serana. Funny, how that could happen, how the most unexpected people could suddenly become close to you, until they were as much a part of your life as your own limbs. _Friends_ had been a word without meaning for Karliah for twenty five bitter years. Now it conjured up an image of Guildmates who she'd worked with for years, and above all of them, a Nord vampire and an amber-eyed Khajiit.

It wasn't right, Karliah thought, for people to be alone. If you were, you retreated too far into yourself. You shut off your emotions and you lost part of who you were. Being friendless, feeling so utterly unloved, had ripped a wound on her soul that would never really go away. She'd always fear losing her friends, always fear being alone again. There was nothing, nothing on Nirn, that she feared more.

And she knew it was the same for J'shana. And for Serana, too. They'd been alone. They'd been unloved and unhappy. Perhaps that was what had drawn them together. Outcasts seemed to have a way, in her experience, of seeing each other's vulnerabilities, noticing the scars that needed healing, and doing everything they could to help. Ending up inseparable. The ones who everyone else might regard as broken, or as loners, were the ones who forged the strongest and truest friendships that could ever be.

If none of J'shana's power as Dragonborn could get her through this battle, maybe that knowledge could. Karliah knew it inspired her, every minute of her life.

She heard a rustling sound, and turned to see Serana pulling something from her pocket. 'Cards?' the vampire asked.

'Might as well.'

Perhaps two hours, and innumberable games later, it happened. A whisper that seemed to come from no discernible source. A shudder that ran through the ground under their feet. A distortion in the air, a sudden flare of light.

And J'shana materialised in front of them, the Black Book clutched in her hands, something golden tucked under her arm, her fur ruffled and scorched in a few patches. But otherwise unharmed. Untouched. As if she had never gone.

Karliah and Serana were on their feet in an instant, the question burning in their eyes. J'shana tossed the Book away, smiled shyly, and pulled the object out from under her arm, holding it up so they could both see it.

The afternoon sun sent bolts of light streaming in every direction from Miraak's mask, until J'shana carefully placed it on the ground and stepped forward.

'Well, he's gone,' she said.

She stood there a moment more, then ran forward and threw her arms around them.

* * *

The wind threw itself against the sails of the _Northern Maiden,_ sending ripples running through the cloth. A seagull cried somewhere, and the grey shore of Solstheim slowly dwindled in size, from a streak to a blur to a smudge, and finally disappearing altogether.

J'shana sighed softly as the waves final obscured the last specks of the island from view. It wasn't exactly the kind of place she'd want to build a house, that was for sure, but she'd grown fond of Solstheim. Perhaps some day she'd return, see if she could help Captain Veleth deal with his ash spawn problem, investigate the odd closure of the ebony mine, learn more of the ways of the Skaal. But for now, she was glad to be back on the sea, heading towards the land she'd come to call her home. It was hard to believe that only a few days boat ride lay between her and her family.

Her _family._ Just a few days, a few mere days, and she'd feel Derkeethus's arms around her, be able to hug Meleetha and ruffle the fur on Ma'vasha's head. She could lie beside the fire with Meeko stretched out at her side, the flames sending red streaks of light across his now-silver muzzle. She'd sleep with the warmth of her husband pressed against her, and wake to the somehow oddly comforting sound of her children's bickering. She'd be home.

There would be things she'd miss, of course. These days on Solstheim had been happy, in their own strange way. It had been so good to spend time away from Skyrim and all her responsibilities and worries there. And having some time alone in the wilderness with her two closest friends… well, it was an experience she'd treasure, no matter how many shadows Miraak had tried to cast across it.

The day was warm, so they were gathered on deck. Having finally played too many card games to find any amusement in it any more, her sisters were entertaining themselves in other ways. Karliah had produced a mortar and pestle from her alchemy satchel and was working through the pile of ingredients she'd gathered while on the island, mixing them together and stopping regularly to tip the resulting sludge over the side with a string of Dunmeris curses. Serana was lying on her back on the wooden floor, a book of the history of House Redoran held above her head, humming slightly over the interesting passages.

It seemed a shame to disturb them, but J'shana had things she needed to say. She coughed quietly, and they turned their heads towards her.

'You know how I was saying I was getting close to making some decisions?'

Karliah set aside her alchemy equipment, and Serana pushed herself up into a sitting position. 'Have you made them?' the Dunmer asked.

'I have indeed.' J'shana sucked on her lower lip, uncertain of how her friends, Karliah in particular, would respond to what she had to say. 'And you might not like all of them.'

'We don't have to. It's your life, you're the one who has to like the choices.' Serana paused, seeming to reconsider her statement. 'As long as they're sensible. Not involving going off to far-flung islands on your own.'

'They don't,' J'shana assured her. 'It's about… this whole double life thing I have going on. I'm sick of having to dye my fur and put on different accents and always wonder who it's safe to talk to.' She swallowed hard. 'I have to choose one life or the other. So… I'm leaving the Guild.'

She was almost afraid to meet Karliah's gaze. She was sure there would be accusation there, or at least disappointment. But the Dark Elf simply closed her eyes for a moment, and nodded.

'I had a feeling you would,' she murmured. 'We all did. You've been spending less time with us for years, giving more of your tasks to Brynjolf. If it helps, Sha, I think it's the right decision.'

'You do?'

'Of course. You have children, a husband. Derkeethus might have lived in the Cistern for a while, but it was only because you were there. He's no thief. And I understand that you don't want Ma'vasha and Meleetha having… questionable role models as they grow up.'

J'shana dipped her head. 'It's all of that. And… I think it's time I embraced being the Dragonborn.'

Serana blinked. 'I don't think I ever expected to hear that from you.'

'I didn't expect to ever end up saying it. But with the Civil War going the way it is… I realised, while I had time to think over on Solstheim, that the Thalmor aren't actually as worried about me as they used to be. I'm a thorn in their side, but they've got bigger problems. As long as I don't do anything to provoke them, they'll most likely leave me alone.' J'shana shrugged. 'And if I come out into the world as the Dragonborn, gain the support of the people, they might not want to risk doing anything to me.'

'They'd be fools to kill a hero of the people,' Karliah agreed. 'It would put their entire position in Skyirm in jeopardy.'

'That's what I think too. And it means… I've loved my time in the Guild, and I know it's an organisation with honour at the core, when you get down to it. But it might be nice to live a completely honest life again.' She sighed and leaned back against the low wall surrounding the deck. 'Fighting Miraak showed me what the Dragonborn mustn't be. I need to be everything Miraak wasn't. I've got a duty to the people of Skyrim, and I've been letting my own fears make me neglect it. It's time to become what Akatosh meant me to be.'

'You've always been that,' Karliah told her firmly. 'But I understand.'

Serana nodded her agreement. 'And where does the Dawnguard fit into New J'shana's life?'

'New J'shana's still a Dawnguard, don't worry. Not full-time, but if you need me, just call. Same goes for the Guild – I may be handing in my leathers, but I'll always be one of you.' J'shana chuckled. 'Brynjolf isn't going to be happy.'

'He'll understand too.' Karliah shook her head. 'Delvin and Vex and I can divide up some of his duties among us if it gets too much for him to deal with. The Guild will be fine.'

'It better be.' J'shana clasped her hands together. 'It's not just for myself I'm doing this, you know. I know Keeth's wanted me to do it for years, he's just been too polite to say so.'

Serana smiled. 'He'd never do anything that could hurt you. You're lucky to have him.'

Her words brought a whole new layer of warmth to J'shana's heart. 'That's something you don't need to tell me.'

She looked at them, her friends, her sisters, and the warmth grew stronger. She was lucky to have them, too.

'We should do this again, some time,' she said. 'That offer of a trip to Morrowind still stands, Kar.'

'Accepted. Once things are settled back home.' Karliah glanced at Serana. 'Are you coming?'

'Try and stop me. Let's bring more entertainment than a pack of cards next time, though.'

'And more cooking tools,' Karliah added, and Serana laughed.

And there it was again, that easy security and happiness, that simple feeling that everything was going to be all right. A week and a few days ago, J'shana had looked at her future and seen nothing but doubt. Enemies that could destroy her life. Trials that could rip her apart. Duty that was slowly crushing her.

All it had taken was a week and a bit in the company of friends, and a glance at the future showed her light and life. There would be a reunion in Fort Dawnguard, the delighted squeals of her children and the tight, solid embrace of Derkeethus. There would be a difficult delivery of news to make to Brynjolf, but after that, there would be a lifetime of never having to pretend to be anything she wasn't. There would be battles with dragons, stands made to defend the innocent, as she set aside the thief and truly became the Dragonborn at last.

And there would be travels, through Skyrim, through Morrowind, perhaps someday back to her home in Elsweyr, maybe across all Tamriel, with her sisters at her side. There would be laughter and comfort and friendship. Sisterhood.

Every journey a mortal could make threw hardship at them. Every voyage led through storms, and the seas would toss and rage until you seemed inches away from falling in. But your fellow passengers, J'shana thought with a smile, could make even the roughest ride worthwhile.


End file.
